


The Worst of Us Shall Rule

by kathakoito



Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018), Heneral Luna (2015)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Wild Historical Inaccuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:52:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathakoito/pseuds/kathakoito
Summary: A medieval fantasy AU. A lost ship captain returns to a kingdom and secrets unravel as a decades-long war puts tension between the royal family and their subjects.





	1. The Drowned Man

Twenty years ago, Lord Selong, a ship captain and a scholar, disappeared out at sea with his vessel and his entire crew. Presumed dead, his loved ones made their peace, one by one journeying to sand and sea to lay his memory to rest. He was a corpse rotting on the bottom of the ocean floor, or so King Miong had believed in the many years he had been gone.

Midway to the eastern base of his army, a messenger intercepted the steady procession of the king and his men. Word came to him that Selong’s drowned corpse had risen from the sea. He initially dismissed it as a fortune hunter, there to attempt claiming the Del Pilar estate that had been transferred back to the crown for lack of an heir. When the knight added that his consort had left the castle to meet the claimant in the southern hospital, he immediately turned his horse around and abandoned the meeting he was meant to have with his war director, eager to punish the impostor for disturbing his day.

“Your Majesty!” A knight called after him as his men turned their horses to follow. “What are your orders?”

“I’m heading to the hospital to meet this pretender. Send word to my cousin that I will confer with him another day.” Miong instructed before he urged his horse faster in the direction of the hospital.

A portion of soldiers broke away from him to deliver the king’s word to the war director.

-

The king consort often visited the southern hospital to check on its condition. Pole had been personally invested in expanding it since he heard the volume of soldiers that passed through its doors. It was not unusual for the hospital crew to see his palanquin crossing the gates and rarely did he have to announce himself for a visit, since he did it so often. However, this occasion was entirely different. Ysabel, the hospital directress, felt it was prudent to stand by the entrance to receive him and field his questions.

Pole had left the curtains of his palanquin wide open as his men carried him through the gates. As he had expected, Ysabel was standing there to meet him. She was flanked by two nurses with their heads lowered. Pole saw her face, still white with shock, as if reality had yet to settle in. She met his eyes and gave him a firm, sharp nod. _Yes, it’s him_. Pole’s heart jumped, but still he dared not hope. She could still be wrong. Nobody had seen him in twenty years.

The nurse to Ysabel’s left gestured to him. “Your Grace, let me lead you to his room.”

“Follow her. Quickly,” he told the men carrying him. They continued on the same leisurely pace  they were accustomed to and he could not help but snap. “You can walk faster than that.”

“Your Grace?” One of the men asked uncertainly. They had always carried him with irritating slowness, as if he was fragile shipment of porcelain and he would break at the slightest mishandling.

“Run if you have to. I don’t mind. I only care that you bring me there at once.”

“Your Grace.” Ysabel fell into step beside him, matching the quickened pace of his palanquin. Her heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, joining the cacophony of sounds that harmonized in the early morning bustle of the hospital. The noise made the stillness that followed all the more prominent, as wherever Pole passed, the commoners and hospital staff alike paused in their activities to watch him. Some managed to overcome their surprise and remembered to bow. A few called after him in gratitude. A life saved here. Free medicine acquired there. Normally, Pole would stop and ask them how they were faring, but today Pole barely saw them.

“Your Grace,” Ysabel repeated, louder. “Are you all right?”

Pole had barely even realized she was speaking. His mind was racing over memories of Selong. He was pulling on the bond to test if it would give him a response, a sign that it really was him.

“I’m only warning you,” Ysabel said meaningfully. “I don’t think you’re ready for what you’re about to see.”

“What am I about to see, Ysabel?” Pole asked. His voice was shaking. “Is he a corpse like they say? A ghost?”

Ysabel shook her head. “He is frail from whatever it is he went through to come here, but he is very much flesh and blood. As much alive as you and I.”

“Is he awake?”

“He passed out not long after we gave him water. He’s dehydrated and injured. Unfortunately, we don’t know how long he has been trying to get to shore. We found no boat, so we assume he swam here from a distance. It’s a marvel that he didn’t drown. It seems like he was in the water for a long time.”

Pole made a strained noise. “But he won’t die?”

Ysabel shook her head. “He has some burns on him that he left untreated and he’s running a fever, but I’m certain that he will survive.”

“What should I say?” Pole asked quietly.

Ysabel’s lips thinned. “You can answer that question better than I can. But do you really have to see him now?”

“Yes, otherwise, my mind will be disquiet. Is it really him?” Pole asked again. He felt the need to press. It had been a very long time since anyone in this country had seen Selong. His own memory of Selong’s face was faulty. The same could be said of Ysabel’s memory. It could be an imposter.

“I even ordered an old sketch of him from twenty years ago to be brought to me just to properly recall his face. I am certain. If it isn’t him, feel free to order me hanged,” Ysabel said with conviction. She must have noticed his reluctance to believe her.

“We won’t go quite that far.” Pole assured.

“Does the king know?”

“Not yet.”

“Should I send word to him?”

“I’m sure he has already been informed,” Pole replied. “I left the castle in a state. I departed in the middle of a meeting with Lord Buencamino. I can’t even recall what he said when I dismissed him, but I’m sure the king will hear of it. Lord Buencamino had never been fond of me, and I’m sure my actions today did not endear me.”

Ysabel frowned. “What will happen after today? Is he still a Lord?”

Pole closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I’m afraid I don’t know what this means. This has never happened before.”

The nurse paused in front of a room. She opened the doors for them and moved to the side. “Your Highness, this is Lord del Pilar’s room.”

Pole motioned for his men to bring him inside. He gripped the wooden armrests within the palanquin, uncertain of what he wanted to see. He had never truly bid goodbye, not like the rest of the Lords, not like Selong’s friends, who said their words to the sea in the hopes that their sentiments could reach Selong’s soul. He prayed, yes, once in a while, he would tell Selong his thoughts, his longing, apologize for his wrongs, but he would not say goodbye. Antonio had come to see him five years after Selong’s supposed death and asked him if he wanted to join him out to the place where Selong’s ship was last seen. They were to pour him his favorite wine one last time. Antonio had been the last of Selong’s closest friends to accept his death. Pole had declined the invitation.

The bond between Pole and Selong had faded, but he felt the faintest of pulls over the years. Fray Valerio told him that after one’s death, the surviving other half might imagine a pull, a hallucination borne of longing, the way Pole sometimes imagined himself moving his paralyzed legs. Pole had kept it to himself that the hallucinations felt real, and that last night, it felt the strongest in years, as if Selong deeply wanted to let him know that he was alive and he was coming home to him.

His men set the palanquin down. The heavy thud of it, and the loud patters of metal beadwork against the wood, startled the man awake. He had been sleeping on his side, presenting his back to them. He came to, gasping for air, hands groping for a stable hold, as if not quite realizing yet that he had reached land.

Pole never took his eyes off of him even as his men moved him to an armchair. He watched the way he slowly woke, taking in the bed and the people around him. He met Pole’s eyes first in recognition. His mouth fell open as if to say something.

“Selong,” Pole said tearfully. His men stepped away. Pole felt faint. His body trembled. His chest was constricting. The air felt thin in the room and nobody seemed certain of what they were doing. The silence was unbearable.

Selong tried to say something, but a harsh breath escaped his lips. He blinked, frowning. He touched his throat. A nurse walked forward to give him a cup of water. Selong drank it in two gulps, never taking his eyes off of Pole as if he would vanish if he turned away for just a second.

“Pole,” he said quietly, voice still hoarse. “Is it really you?”

Pole nodded.

“Am I really home?”

Pole nodded again, biting his lower lip to keep himself from sobbing. “Yes, you’re home.”

Selong smiled sadly. “Is this another dream?”

Pole reached a trembling hand out. “Touch me and you’ll know I’m real.”

Selong did, with the same sad smile, as if expecting him to fade the moment their hands met, as if this had happened one too many times in his own mind. Their fingertips connected and Selong looked at him in surprise. He inched forward, sliding his hand down Pole’s, unable to believe that he was flesh and bone, warm to the touch. Pole curled his fingers around the palm of Selong’s hand. It was rougher than he remembered.

“You’re real.” Selong whispered.

Pole nodded. “I am.” He felt his chest tighten. The parts of his skin that Selong touched felt warm and cold at once. Selong made a move to stand, but he wavered on the spot. Pole saw the moment his eyes go out of focus and his grip on him tightened, steadying him. “Don’t push yourself.”

“You’re really here,” Selong gasped, as if not hearing him. He made a move to stand again, managing to bring himself to the edge of the bed before collapsing on his side. He dry heaved against the sheets. Pole felt Selong’s hands grow cold.

“Ysabel!” Pole called, panicked.

Ysabel was already walking towards them. “You’ll hurt yourself Lord del Pilar. You mustn’t excite yourself like this.”

Selong groaned in pain, eyes closing as a tremor passed through him. “Let me hold him,” he gasped. “I’ve—I’ve waited so long.”

Ysabel motioned for Pole to let go and Pole did so slowly, letting Ysabel break Selong’s hold as she and another nurse helped Selong back onto the bed. Selong made a noise of protest.

Pole looked to his aides. “Help me onto the bed.”

“Your Grace, I don’t think—“ Ysabel tried to say, but Pole waved her off. “I’ll be fine.”

Pole settled against the headboard and took Selong’s hand again. Selong smiled at him gratefully. "I've waited long enough, Pole. Let's get married right now." Selong removed the ring he had been wearing and presented it. The gold sheen had faded and there were small cuts along the band, a testament to its age. “I’m sorry about the state of it. I’ve been holding it for years, thinking of nothing but to sail back, and give it to you.”

Pole was unable to take his eyes off of the ring, uncertain of how to proceed. Miong entered, startling the guard stationed by the door.

Selong shifted to look at the new arrival, and recognition dawned on his face. "Your Majesty. I’d stand and bow, but I’m afraid I don’t have the strength to do it.”

Miong’s eyes widened upon seeing Selong’s face. “It really is you.”

Selong smiled. “By some odd fortune, I’m home at last. Now, give your servant some measure of satisfaction. Would you please do the honor of marrying us? This is Pole, my fiancé."

Miong looked at Pole, quiet and pale. He was visibly displeased. He noted how closely Pole and Selong sat together on the bed. His frown deepened when he saw their hands, linked together on the sheets. Pole was still looking at the ring. He inhaled shakily and looked into Selong’s eyes. “I’m married, Selong.”

Selong's face fell. He lowered his hand, tucking the ring away into his closed fist. "You didn't wait for me?"

"Twenty years ago, you disappeared out on the sea. What was I supposed to think?" Pole asked, pained. “For twenty years, Selong, I thought you were gone. I couldn’t keep my life the same way for twenty years.”

"Who..." Selong's voice faltered. “Who have you married?”

Miong stepped forward and put a hand on Pole's shoulder. Only then did Selong notice the matching rings on their fingers. He turned away. He dropped Pole’s hand from his and Pole let him. He closed his fist around the ring.

"I'm sorry," Selong heard Pole whisper.

Selong turned empty eyes toward the door and spotted two boys, peeking into the room. "Yours?"

Pole caught sight of his sons, Pepe and Goyong, before they ran to hide, surprised to have been caught. He nodded slowly.

Selong's jaw clenched. "How old?"

Pole took a deep breath. "Nineteen and eighteen."

Selong blinked up at the ceiling. Miong's hand tightened on Pole's shoulder, comforting, anchoring. "It has been twenty years, but you were sailing for much longer than that." Miong said calmly. "Before you disappeared, you would be gone for months and would stay for only a week or so.”

Selong shook his head. "And in those months apart, we never broke our engagement, Your Majesty. And you may tell yourself you acted honorably in light of the circumstances, but in all my travels, I have learned that it is always bad form to seduce someone else's fiancé." Selong’s fist tightened on the ring.

"Be careful with your wor—“

"I demand a duel, Your Majesty." Selong said firmly.

Pole's eyes widened. "Please don't do this." He begged Selong. "You're barely alive. You've been trying to get home for so long."

"Only to get back to you." Selong replied quickly. "But since I no longer have you, then I only have my honor."

Miong nodded and retreated from Pole. "In a month’s time. You have until then to recover and train. I won’t be shamed for duelling with an ill man."

Pole glared at Miong but he turned his back before Pole could stop him. Pepe and Goyong scattered to the labyrinthine hospital hallways as their father exited, stone-faced.

Pole ran a hand through his hair, distressed. He motioned for his aides to leave him and the nurses followed suit. Ysabel was the last to leave her place, uncertain of what will occur in the room should she turn away. Pole just smiled at her sadly and mouthed ‘go’. She gave him a lingering stare. Pole gently urged her, yes, he would truly like to be alone with Selong. She turned, exiting the room slowly.

Pole looked at Selong. "What good will this do?" He asked Selong softly.

Selong turned the ring in his hand. "If I kill your husband, you'd be free to wed again. He accepted the duel. It wouldn’t be a crime to kill a king who consented to a duel."

Pole frowned. "That's not what I want."

Selong regarded him for a moment. "You never liked his sort. You never had a kind word towards the monarchy, or the lords. You always cited history to me and complained of the way warlords took lands from the people and taxed poor men while they grew fat on their crops. Or did I misremember your letters?"

Pole looked down at his lap. "People change, Selong."

"Yes, but why him? The king? Of all the people to marry—him? You never wanted power."

"It was not about power. He needed me. The country needed me."

Selong laughed. "I knew it. The country. Yes, that’s something you would do. But you have heirs now, the oldest is near old enough to ascend. They will rule in his stead. You don't need him for anything anymore. You don't have to stay in this marriage for the country."

Pole's voice trembled. He wished it was easier to explain how much has changed in the past twenty years of his life. "It may have begun that way, but... Please forgive me, but I love him."

Selong paused and for a moment all they can hear were the hushed voices of people in the next room, too soft to understand. "And me?" Selong asked, voice empty. "What am I to you now?"

"A beloved friend," Pole answered with a heavy heart. "Who has come back from the dead by the grace of God."

"But you loved me." Selong said hollowly.

Pole nodded. His voice was shaking, so soft it was almost hard to hear. "I loved you once. And then I thought you were dead. This is the life I chose when it occurred to me that a life with you was no longer an option."

“Then I’m better off dead. I would rather have death than live with this. We had such plans, Pole. It’s not too late for them.”

Pole wiped tears from his eyes. "We can't go back to the past, Selong. It is behind us."

Selong stared ahead, at the empty wall as tears fell from his eyes. "This is not as easy for me, Pole. I clung to life for the sheer promise of seeing you again. My years of solitude didn't prepare me for this."

Pole sniffed. "I know. It's not fair to you and I'm sorry. But please, I already mourned one love." Pole reached for Selong's hand. "Don't let me mourn again."

Selong stared at him, his eyes working over Pole’s features, trying to gauge the truthfulness of Pole’s words. "Give me time to think, Pole. I envisioned this moment for so long. Never have I pictured it ending this way."

Pole pulled away. "I understand. I’ll leave you to your thoughts. And you need your rest."

“Can’t you stay?”

“I thought you needed time?”

“Can I not have both? Time and your company?”

Pole felt like he was being the old Selong again; the one he thought had died. He gave the same smile he used to give Selong when he had said something amusing. “I want to stay and hold you, because you are finally home. I want to comfort you and be with you, telling you of the past twenty years. I want to know what the last two decades have been for you too.”

“But?” Selong asked, anticipating that Pole would not stay as both of them wanted.

“But people will talk.”

“I know. But I don’t want you to leave. I want to know what I’ve missed. Or if we can’t speak, then let me look at you. Let me feel you here. I spent so long wanting nothing but to be beside you.”

Pole wiped his face on his sleeve. “When you say things like that, you give me reasons not to stay.”

“Does it displease you to hear me desiring your company?”

No, Pole thought. It was precisely how happy those words made him that proved how dangerous staying was.

Selong tried to decode his silence until Pole turned towards the door. It was clear that Pole could not stay long. Decency simply did not permit it. “Will I see you again?” Selong asked.

“When you are well enough to leave the hospital, but not before then.”

“Would he allow you to see me?”

Pole frowned. He did not know what Miong would say exactly, but he doubted that Miong would allow him to see Selong any more than was necessary. “I should leave.”

Pole turned away from him and called for his guards. His aides shuffled in with his palanquin. One lifted him from the bed and helped him onto his seat. Selong’s eyes followed as he drew his curtains closed around him. He shook his head when the door closed after Pole, in quiet disbelief of the luxury he now lived. "I could never have afforded that for him."

Selong felt what little life in him leave. He had imagined Pole would come to him, as the palace researcher he once was, as the man he remembered, grateful to see him alive. In all the ways he imagined their reunion, Pole had never been married to another.

Pole sighed when his guards approached him with his children in tow. Pepe and Goyong had been caught snooping outside Selong’s room. They looked at the floor guiltily.

"Have you been listening?" Pole asked, unimpressed.

Pepe tried to laugh to lighten up the situation. "Only a little. Father caught us. He told us to knock it off."

Goyong talked over him. "Is father really going to duel that man?"

Pole stared at him. "What else did you hear?"

Pepe and Goyong shared a look. "Something about you two being engaged before. You're not going to leave father for him, are you?" Pepe asked cautiously.

Pole shook his head. "Of course not. I love your father very much. And I love you two as well."

"But you also loved that man?" Goyong asked, tone accusing.

Pole replied, tone placating. "A very long time ago, before I ever married your father. Please, we'll discuss this when we get home. Is your father in the carriage?"

Goyong shook his head. "He walked off and shot a few trees, and then told the guards to watch us."

Pepe kicked Goyong. "What?"

Pepe looked at him critically. "Don't tell 'tay that!"

Goyong whined. "What, should I say father laughed it off and was fine with everything?"

Pole's mouth tightened. "Let's head home. Your father will find his way back eventually."

Goyong and Pepe walked on either side of the palanquin, flanked by guards. "Are you and dad fighting?" Pepe asked seriously.

Pole looked down at his hands. “No, we’re not,” He said with little confidence.


	2. King and Consort

Pole distinctly remembered the few times he had to be carried to his bedchamber by his guards. The first occurrence had been in the country's turbulent years, just after the first few months of his marriage to Miong.

Miong had been leading the war when he was advised to marry. Should he perish in battle, it would secure the nation with an heir that would take his place. Miong stated that he had chosen him for his wisdom and his ties to the Church. He had hoped that Pole would make a suitable King Regent, for he feared that he would pass before his heir could grow to adulthood. Time was of the essence then. With barely enough money and time to spare for a wedding, Miong chose to marry him on the battlefield, still in armor.

It was only a week after the shipwreck's news. Pole was at the height of his mourning, and still only a few knew that he had been engaged to the captain of the felled ship.

Their wedding night had occurred in Miong's tent, in a cot barely big enough for two, next to the table where they discussed battle formation. Miong had tried to wipe himself of the grime, but he still reeked of the battlefield, of sweat and blood and leather and metal. Water was scarce out in the field and it was saved for drinking.

Pole had tried to turn in their bed. He felt like weeping. He did not want to look at Miong's face, but Miong would not let him. He lit candles around them and held him firmly in place so that he could look into Pole’s eyes.

Pole had not expected Miong to spend so long staring at his face, touching his hair, palming his cheeks. They had not married for this.

"I know you don't love me," Miong had said. "You don't have to. I promise to be good to you no matter how you feel about me."

Pole had continued to watch him in silence, as Miong carefully took off his shirt, his pants, touched his skin. He could feel his breath hitching without his permission, his mouth forming around moans and gasped. His fingers clutched at Miong's skin, _be quiet, be quiet_ his mind bid as he pressed his lips together. But the sound resonated in his throat, vibrated in his chest, the unspoken words turned into hesitant touches. _Husband, duty, participate and make this end now, quickly_ , his mind trilled, and Pole followed.

Miong leaned over him, eyes full of wonder. Pole frowned because he was not beautiful enough to warrant the stare. He was chosen mostly for his ability to rule, for his mind, to bring back the Church who was slowly drawing away from the crown as it preached against the war. Miong caught his lips in the softest of kisses and Pole stopped trying not to look at his face.

Afterwards, Pole had stirred in Miong's arms, restless, and wrote one last letter to Selong in his head. He remembered it clearly, how he had stared up at the canopy and thought, "This means nothing. You are my last love."

Miong returned every night from the battlefield to take him to bed in their tent. Bloodied and tired as he was, Miong made sure to always seek him out upon his return.

Pole had never tasted battle due to his affliction but he saw men in the rear returning almost half-dead. What more was the ache in Miong's bones who led the battles from the front?

Pole wanted to remember Selong's face, but it faltered whenever he saw Miong return from the battlefield alive. His hopes then had hinged on Miong, the weight of the kingdom’s burdens bearing down on him. The king must live or they will all fall with him, he told himself when his heart soared at the sight of him, when the feelings turned a little more than duty, a little more than faith. Miong kissed him and held him and Pole assured himself that this was for the country so that he could forgive himself in the morning.

Time spent on war felt hurried yet never-ending. There were always far too many things to do in one day. Yet, in the rare moments of idleness, the hours spent waiting for news always stretched on to unbearable.

Pole found little peace at the height of the war. He wanted to walk out onto the field and see what the soldiers saw, if only to understand better what pain the country was in. He felt that his efforts fell short of being useful, and with it came guilt that he was safe in a tent while everyone else was out fighting the war for him.

When the enemy's defenses fell and they breached the territory of El Viejo, Miong charged ahead, eager to reclaim their land. It was then that Pole fell ill. He was removed from the field when he would not rouse.

Miong was exhilarated. Victory was theirs. He charged to camp on horseback eager to see Pole, but he was not to see Pole that night.

That night, Pole slept fitfully in the castle.

Come morning Miong was by his side. He had just finished speaking with the doctor. Miong had spoken in soft tones, proud and protective. It had not been an ordinary illness. They were expecting an heir.

"And the battle?" Pole had asked, taking in the smile on Miong’s face; the first one he had seen in a while. The king had never given him such an uncomplicated smile, not after the onset of war. His mouth had always been tight, his cheer forced or polite.

"Won. And beautifully so." Miong had answered briefly. "But it is nothing compared to this news."

"Will you be rejoining camp?" Pole asked.

Miong shook his head. "From now on, I will always be where you are. I will not miss the day our child is born. I’ve appointed someone to lead in my place."

The second time Miong failed to take Pole to his bedchamber had been Pepe's first horse-riding lesson. Pepe had been riding a pony that Miong had procured for him, a short and stout breed that would not spook the small child, unlike the large horses of the castle stables that Pepe had always been afraid to approach.  

A rabid dog had escaped from the kennels that day and had pelted towards the closest other animal, viciously aiming for the pony’s hindleg. The injured pony ran and the instructor had been trampled in its wake, ankle twisted. A guard had been watching the lesson and immediately called for the riders to chase after the prince.

Miong had been on his stallion, watching his son from a distance. He had chased after Pepe the moment he saw the lesson turn awry.

Before disappearing into the woods after the pony, Miong managed to bid the instructor, "Don't tell Pole!"

Pole had fallen asleep in his study, waiting for Miong and their son, and had woken up in his bedchamber, carried by guards.

"Where is your King?" Pole asked as the guards tried to leave unnoticed.

"Um, Your Highness, he is..."

"Here!" Miong gasped, his face dirt-stained and sweaty. He appeared as though he ran the whole way.

Pole looked at him critically. "What happened?"

Miong opened his mouth to explain but Pepe pelted into the room, crying and covered in mud.

Pole, bewildered, scooted to the edge of the bed to embrace his son.

"What happened?" He asked Pepe.

Pepe sniffled as his father scrubbed away at the mud caked on his face. "My pony ran and I fell!"

"Where did you fall?"

 Pepe cried even louder. "Down a mountain!"

Pole turned to Miong icily.

Miong held up a placating hand. "Not a mountain! Just a small mound of land. He rolled down a very gentle slope into mud. He can walk and use his hands. I’ve checked him for bumps and scrapes. He has a few, but he seems fine. Nothing is broken."

Pole gritted his teeth as Pepe bawled into his arms. "We’ll have the doctor look at him to be sure. How far did the pony go?"

Miong mumbled something.

"What?" Pole demanded.

"Just by the rocky hill. Not very close, but it's the closest landmark."

Pole glared. "That's almost the waterfall. Those lands are dangerous even for an adult!"

Miong shuffled uncomfortably.

"You said that pony was safe!"

Pepe had come out of the ordeal with just a few minor scratches and a distaste for riding. Miong, on the other hand, had been sent a very terse letter to find himself a comfortable bed in the opposite wing of the castle. It took Pole more than a week before he felt forgiving enough to allow Miong to return.

The third time Miong failed to carry Pole to bed had been on Goyong's tenth birthday, a lavish affair.

Their kingdom had been going through a rough year after losing half of the crops to a drought. Pole had advised against a party. He stated that they were to sacrifice luxuries to import a reserve of rice and beans that they could ration to the poor when their own crops would not suffice. But a child does not understand drought and Miong had a hard time denying his children anything. The crown threw a party anyway.

Pole had feigned illness the entire night in protest and Miong slept in their sons' room, afraid to deal with Pole’s anger and disappointment.

In the morning, Pole looked at the damage done to the treasury and felt himself a failure at curtailing Miong. He shuffled his notes, calculations of potential trades, letters in foreign script that he had yet to have translated, found all of it suddenly useless. He felt shame and anger as he remembered the days when his parents would go hungry so that he and his siblings could eat. Somewhere out there were families just like his that would starve in the coming months because the crown had been foolish.

Still, his heart softened when Goyong rushed to his lap, telling him excitedly about last night's party. He would find a time to tell his sons about self-control, about thinking of others, and putting the people first, but not that day.

The fourth time, tonight.

Pole waited in his study, but each time he called for a guard, the response was the same. "The King has yet to return."

By midnight, Pole finally allowed the guards to bring him to his bedchambers.

Pole barely rested. Miong was a constant presence in his life. Pole had forgotten what it felt like to be apart. He thought of Goyong and Pepe, old enough now to want separate rooms, how they had insisted on spaces large enough for an entire family. He wondered what it would be like if he and Miong were to try it.

It was not a practice entirely unheard of. The castle was big enough, plenty of rooms to take if Miong no longer felt like sleeping by Pole's side.

Pole wondered if that was what Miong was doing right now, stewing in his anger in some dark tower, bidding servants to leave him be and not inform the consort of his location. Pole sat up in bed and stared out their window, searching for candlelight in the opposite wing, some indication of where Miong was, but there was only darkness and starlight and howling wind. There was no sign of his king. Pole laid down again, staring up at the canopy.

"You can't sleep?" Miong had asked when he caught Pole in bed, wide awake, just like this, when he was pregnant with Pepe. "Do you need anything?"

Pole turned to Miong minutely and shook his head. "No. It's just—I can feel him moving."

Miong's sleepy eyes widened the words.

"Can I—?"

Pole smiled at Miong's hesitance to touch his stomach, as if he had never touched Pole before, as if he was suddenly fragile. He nodded and took Miong's hand, pressed it where he last felt the movement. "Give it time, you can't force it."

Miong waited patiently. Pole could not remember how long they laid there, facing each other, lit by moonlight, Miong fighting sleep as he waited for one movement. Finally, the child moved and they gave each other a surprised smile. Miong's hand had lingered on his stomach long after the moment passed.

Believing he had satisfied the king’s curiosity, Pole closed his eyes and attempted to sleep again.

Miong's hand moved away from his stomach, trailed up his arms, and cupped his cheek.

Pole opened his eyes.

Miong was looking at him as if Pole had won the war and lifted all of his burdens. "I know you married me against your will... That you wanted to wed someone else."

"Miong—“

Miong shook his head. "Let me finish, please. My parents were arranged to wed as well, and I expected the same for myself. None of this was supposed to be new to me. I would be good to you. I would protect you. I would be a good husband."

Miong paused.

“You’re all of that.” Pole assured, thinking this was what Miong hoped to hear.

Pole felt Miong’s hand turn cold against his cheek. "I didn't expect to love you."

Pole looked down at the sheets, terrified of what to say.

Miong withdrew his hand. "You don't have to love me back. You're bearing my child and forsaking your wants for my country. That's enough."

Pole nodded and turned away. He bid his erratic heartbeat to settle down, give him sleep. Beside him, he felt Miong shift away and give him space.

The night of Miong’s confession came back to him clearly. Pole faced Miong's side of the bed now, reaching out to the place where he usually laid. He had first told Miong that he loved him on this bed too. Two years ago, on the anniversary of their marriage, when Miong had accosted a bard for help and written him a clumsy poem.

Miong held a paper in his hand and read to him:

_You move mountains with your wisdom_

_You gift me with your smile_

_I praise God that I am with you_

_If even for a while_

 

Pole had nodded his head in encouragement and held in his laughter as Miong grew increasingly red with every stanza:

_So many happy years spent together_

_How fortunate I am to be wed_

_To a force of nature in the throne room_

_And a man of patience once in bed_

_I have so many treasures_

_But I am most proud of only two_

_The boys living in this castle_

_The ones I made with you_

_And my love, will you please forgive me_

_If I ask you for a chore_

_I know I am not good at it_

_But tonight can we make some more?_

 

Miong finished by tossing the paper in the air. Pole rocked back and forth in their bed, clapping and laughing and yelling "encore!"

Miong barrelled into him as punishment. “That dirty bard!” They fell onto the mattress, a messy heap of laughter and protests. Pole grabbed Miong's face and pulled at his cheeks. "What a poem! It was a good thing we bypassed our courtship."

Miong pretended to frown and asked, "Would you have rejected my marriage proposal if I had tried to woo you with that poem?"

Pole nodded emphatically. "My ears would have bled. I would have taken you to court and demanded justice for my injuries. And justice for the Written Word herself and how horribly she was strangled."

Miong turned his head and bit Pole’s palm lightly for it. "Good thing I'm not a bard."

Pole nodded. "Yes, being king suits you more. You don't look as impressive without a crown."

Miong laughed. "I’m not wearing one. Am I not impressive right now?"

Pole shook his head and pressed his palms together, smiling as Miong's cheeks bulged under his touch. "Hm, no, not impressive at all. You just look like my tired husband."

"Your husband apologizes for looking tired tonight," Miong replied. "He worried about that poem for days. And he was right to worry, the receiver was not impressed."

"The receiver would like to inform you that he was mildly affected in a positive way, not by the words, which were horrendous, but by the husband's efforts to be unique," Pole replied.

"Mildly affected?" Miong asked, nose wrinkling.

"My apologies, _deeply touched_. Especially because his husband did not throw an expensive party as promised. He even managed to resist an expensive gift."

Miong smiled. "The husband did not want to be banished to a dark, lonely part of the castle again. Also, he did not want to spend the anniversary of his wedding without recreating his wedding night and trying for a princess this time."

Pole laughed and pushed on his chest. "If that is the husband’s intention, his beloved bids him good night and sleep tight."

Miong laughed and sank down onto Pole gently. "I'm sorry. Two is enough. I'm perfectly happy with two."

Pole smiled. "Good, because at my age, you had better not expect me to give you a daughter."

Miong looked at him tenderly. "You don't have to give me a daughter. If you have been paying attention to Goyong, it seems we will be marrying a daughter into the family soon enough."

Pole snorted. "Your son is playing games, not courting daughters. Don't hold your breath for an engagement any time soon."

Miong shrugged. "If you say so. But I still hold out hope. Whoever our future daughter-in-law is, I hope she’s as smart as you are. We both know Goyong would benefit from being in the company of someone mature and responsible."

Pole looked up at him. "Are you sure you want your son to marry someone like me? Do you think you can handle another me in this place? Are you not tired?”

Miong looked at him, startled. "Have I made you feel as if I'm tired of you?"

Pole shook his head. "No, but after eighteen years of marriage, other kings would have lovers."

The lightness in the air felt thin. Pole felt guilty to have brought it up. But he did wonder.

Miong breathed deeply and replied, "My father did. It caused my mother grief that he would parade his lovers in front of her. He couldn’t even give her the respect of hiding his infidelity. I never wanted to be like him. And I would never do that to you."

"Even if after all these years, I never once told you that I loved you?"

Miong's jaw tightened and he turned away. "Yes, even so."

Pole held his breath, steeling himself. "But I do."

Miong looked at him curiously.

"I do love you. I'm sorry it took me years to say."

Pole felt Miong inhale against him. He waited anxiously for Miong to say something, but whatever words Miong had been preparing to say in response was never said. Miong clung to him and kissed him and gasped his name. "Pole" it was spoken with the same longing of a man finding something long lost. "Pole" against his throat, his lips, his hands.

In turn Pole called Miong's name with reverence, whispering "I love you" and "my love" in between to make up for the lost time.

Pole pulled himself away from the memory. He wiped away his tears and brushed Miong's side of the bed fondly. In the morning, he consoled himself, Miong would be here. They can talk about everything and they would pull through it.

The morning came. Pole sat up from the bed. His vision was blurry. As he blinked the haze of sleep from his eyes, he remembered the night before and wondered if his king had returned. He called for Miong.

His sight cleared. The room was empty. He looked around, heart heavy, and mind unwilling to accept the fact that Miong had spent the night away from him. Pole called for his aides and joined his sons in the dining room for breakfast.

Goyong was trying to eat sausage while resting his head sideways on the table. He hastily sat upright when he heard Pole enter and attempted to look as if he had been eating decently. Pepe none too subtly rolled his eyes and propped open a book.

"Good morning 'tay," Pepe greeted. "Where's father?"

Pole settled into his chair and replied, "I have not seen him."

Pole turned to a guard. "Where is the king?"

The guard replied. "His Highness asked the King Consort not to worry. He is safe, but I cannot disclose where he is."

Goyong talked around a mouthful of bread. "What? Where'd he go? And why can't I come along?"

"Manners," Pole said absently. He thought of the places where Miong could go and what words he could use to placate him once he was found.

Goyong swallowed audibly next to him and then tapped the back of Pole’s hand.

"Are you two still fighting?" Goyong asked in a loud whisper.

Pepe looked at him critically over his book. "Seriously, why can't you shut up?"

"No, we are not fighting," Pole told Goyong, tense and a touch too sharp. “And Pepe, please mind your language."

Pepe frowned. "I'm just trying to help."

"I know," Pole said softly, leaning over to run a comforting hand through Pepe's hair. He reminded himself not to drag the children into this terrible state. "I'm sorry I snapped. I’m just anxious to speak to your father right now. But don’t you two worry. It was just a small misunderstanding."

Pole looked at the breakfast spread and suddenly felt nauseous. He signalled for his guards to bring him to his study. The boys watched as their father left without touching his food.

Goyong threw Pepe a panicked look. "Do you think they'll live in separate castles? My history professor said one of our ancestors did."

"Are you crazy? The other castle has been a complete ruin for decades!" Pepe replied.

Goyong shrugged. "Maybe they'll rebuild it?"

Pepe tilted his head, unimpressed. "Do you WANT them to live in separate castles?"

"No!" Goyong protested. "I'm saying we should be prepared."

"For what?" Pepe asked critically. "Father's probably out there practicing with one of his knights. He'll kill that man in the hospital and everything will be fine."

Goyong tipped his chair back and hummed thoughtfully. "Huh. You have a point. That man is as good as dead. I mean, he has no chance against a king."

Pepe nodded. "Exactly. When they duel, no one will let father die anyway. They'll have knights in the crowd who'll kill him if they need to."

Goyong nodded excitedly. "Right, right. But they won't need to, because father will win, easily. That man's not even a knight."

"He's not," Pepe confirmed. "I read up on him. His name is Marcelo and he's a sailor. Sailors don't get into fights much."

Goyong frowned. "What if he tries to kidnap 'tay and head out to sea?"

Pepe shook his head. "His ship sank years ago. He has nothing."

Goyong nodded again, mind wandering. "I could sabotage his medicine too? So he won't recover."

Pepe paused to consider this. "Tay will kill you. And so will Aunt Ysabel, if you meddle with her work."

"Not if they don’t know!" Goyong replied brightly.

Pepe grinned. "I'd like to see you try."

"Is that a bet, Kuya?" Goyong challenged.

Pepe threw his book down and raised a gold pocket watch. "You’ve had your eye on this for years, right?"

Goyong laughed and raised his own prized possession, a gold pin of three stars clustered around a sun. "Deal."


	3. The Captain's Family

Pole wrote out five letters, asking his closest confidantes if they know where Miong was. He was writing his sixth letter when Cayo entered the room, barely a second after the guard had announced his arrival.

"I rode here as fast as I could when I got your letter. It alarmed me. You even addressed me as Lord Alzona, which was unusually formal. Now, why is the king missing? Does this have anything to do with Selong?" Cayo asked.

Pole laid his head down on his hands. "I’m sorry for this. My mind is out of sorts. Has news spread about Selong?"

Cayo nodded. "It's the talk of the town! It’s not every day a man comes back from the dead. A long-lost Lord at that. The people who knew him are clamouring to see him."

Pole sighed. "And Miong?"

Cayo settled into a chair beside him. "A farmer's boy said he spotted the king riding into the forest at dawn."

"Did he appear to be doing anything?"

 Cayo shrugged. "Watering his horse perhaps, as it was near the river. Now, would you please tell me—"

"Lady Ysa—“

"Yes, he knows perfectly well who I am," Ysabel snapped as she let herself in. The guard who had attempted to announce her presence could not mask his annoyance. "Why is Selong requesting for a sword master?"

She frroze when she noticed Cayo’s presence in the room. "My apologies, Lord Alzona. I did not see you."

Cayo shook his head. "It's quite fine, Lady Luna."

"Ysabel, it's fine. Cayo is a close friend. I trust him with private matters. What about Selong?" Pole asked.

 Ysabel settled into a chair Cayo provided for her. "Now, I'm sure there are properties to be settled now that everyone knows Selong is alive. Years ago, because he had no heirs, the king had reclaimed his estate and given it to Lord Paterno."

Pole huffed. He remembers that argument all too well. "Against my advice, but go on."

"Well, Paterno came to visit him this morning in the hospital and now the man is demanding a sword master with no explanation. I put the two together and assumed Paterno has refused to give his lands back. Upsetting as that may be, under no circumstances will I let a patient overexert himself, so please, help me iron out this matter between the two so that we will not see bloodshed among our own." Ysabel finished grimly.

Pole sighed. He knew exactly what this was about. "First, let me assure you that the duel is not between Selong and Lord Paterno. It’s not a matter of estate."

Ysabel frowned. "Then, who?"

"You once guessed that I was engaged to someone secretly." Pole said carefully.

Ysabel glanced at Cayo and muttered, "Well it was a popular secret."

Ysabel tried for a smile. "Even Miong knew, yes?"

Pole nodded. "It was true. I was engaged to Selong. We were to be wed on the same day he returned."

Ysabel looked at Cayo, confused, and then at Pole. "It was Selong?"

She paused to take it all in, and then sharply, "I—oh! Oh, is he dueling Miong for you? Oh dear God!"

Cayo sighed heavily. "So that’s why you’ve been searching for the king. Has he stormed off because of Selong?”

Pole gave him a tired look.

Cayo rolled his eyes. “Is it not so easy for Selong to come to terms with the fact that much has changed since he was gone?"

Ysabel pressed a hand to her cheek, staring at Cayo. "Lord Alzona, if it were so easy, we would not be sitting here right now."

Cayo looked at Pole. "I'll take riders with me to the forest to plead with the king to meet with you and discuss this calmly."

Ysabel nodded. "And I'll consult with Antonio immediately. He knows Selong and the king well. One of them will listen to him."

Pole asked. "He is traveling with Juan, yes?"

"Yes. I sent word to him as soon as I confirmed Selong had returned. If my letter reached him without delay, he'll be here in two days' time."

Cayo rose from his chair. "I'll see myself out. Perhaps I can find the king before he ventures any further. Best of luck with matters at the hospital, Lady Luna."

Ysabel nodded and waved him off. She turned to Pole as soon as Cayo had left. "I suppose I'll be going then. I shall write to you about Selong's condition, but perhaps it would help if you talked sense into him."

Pole shook his head. "I tried, Ysabel. I sincerely tried."

Ysabel huffed. "Well, if we survived Tomas and Antonio declaring war on each other in the middle of a battle against El Viejo, we'll survive the silly squabbling of your husband and former fiancé."

Pole smiled. The two generals had always been at odds with each other, but their mutual hatred had reached a climax during a battle where Tomas reportedly pulled his troops so that Antonio and his men would be overwhelmed at the front. Antonio had not only pulled his troops as well, he also raced his horse to Tomas’ side and struck him with his sword, causing Tomas’ men to try and defend their general. It spiralled into battles within their kingdom’s own army.

"You’re right. If we survived that, we can survive anything. That's actually very reassuring. Thank you, Ysabel," Pole said warmly. "And if you need any assistance with Selong, please don't hesitate to ask."

Ysabel stood up. "I won't. Now tell your husband to stop challenging bedridden patients to a fight."

Pole waved her off.

-

Cayo urged his horse to go faster as his men tailed him towards the place where Miong was last seen. He frowned when he felt raindrops hit his face and cursed the heavens for its timing. "Two of you stay by the clearing in case the king decides to head back."

Cayo turned to the rest. "We enter and spread out. If you find the king, tell him very clearly that the king consort is worried sick."

The men nodded and indicated their directions to each other.

"Onward!" Cayo yelled and the riders followed him into forest, ignoring the rain and strong winds. Cayo prayed Miong was turning back home.

-

Selong startled when he heard a knock against his room door. "Who is it?"

"Manuel Quezon," the man behind the door answered. "Or Nonong, as my friends call me. I'm afraid you don't know me yet. I'm something of an intermediary between the neighboring kingdoms."

"Come in."

Nonong smiled as he entered. "It's wonderful to finally meet you. I admit to be a fan of the fantastic books about your travels. In fact, allow me to quote from my favorite: _Freelands_ ’ dedication To My Beloved, who believes that the ruler is chosen by the ruled, not by blood or ties, but by merit and skill. And the book was about this country called Dimorach where rulers were taken among the best scholars and the best fighters, regardless of upbringing. It was a remarkable read."

Nonong took said book from his breast pocket. The leather bindings were folded and weathered, a sign of how often it had been read. "It must be disappointing to return to a kingdom where rulers are chosen by blood, and lands are granted by ties."

Selong looked at him with a touch of confusion. "I’m flattered to meet a fan, but are you here to discuss the failures of monarchy?"

Nonong nodded and laughed. "Yes, and perhaps engage in a friendly chat with a well-traveled sailor and scholar. I’m new here and I’m afraid I don’t have many friends. I hear that’s something we have in common."

Nonong sat by Selong's bedside. "I understand you're looking for a sword master as well."

Selong nodded. “You’re very well-informed.”

"I can arrange that for you. I imagine exercise would help your recovery. Now, how fares this beloved of yours, the one in your books?” Nonong asked serenely. "Have you reconnected?"

Selong sighed heavily. "We have. But I have to recover quickly and win him back. The situation is no longer the same."

Nonong nodded. "Much has changed since the shipwreck?"

"Too much," Selong agreed.

"What was it like when you were last here?" Nonong asked curiously. "I'm afraid I wasn't here then. You must tell me your story."

Selong sat up. He looked at Nonong quizzically. “You wouldn’t be interested in an old man’s tale.”

Nonong waved his book. “I’ve been reading this old man’s tales for years. I still find him entertaining.”

Selong took a deep breath. "What was it like back then? Different. The king’s father ruled. He began the Reclamation Wars that sought to retake the lands granted to neighboring kingdoms as a peace offering some decades ago. Every able son was conscripted for military training. Some lords and their sons were sent abroad to study more advanced forms of warfare. Guns were terribly made things, expensive to produce, inaccurate, and heavy. More likely to backfire on its wielder. Now, most lords hold a pistol. That was my contribution. I had found gunpowder in my travels and became a military trader, searching for more and more weapons for the king's war. I had long periods of idleness at sea, so I wrote down my travels, my observations, and my love who delighted in it, asked me to publish them. He was fascinated by the world beyond here where people enjoyed a peaceful life, and the people weren't slaves to a king's need for bloodshed. See, we had grown up in a time of war, and we knew no other way of life until I began traveling beyond the border."

Nonong nodded. "Did you ever plan to leave?"

Selong shook his head. "I would be hanged for abandoning my duty. But I had hoped we could live most of our life at sea, removed from it all.  He could spend his time gathering wisdom from other lands and use it to uplift the people. Learn technology that was not designed to kill or hurt people, like agriculture or fishery. I knew that would make him happy."

"The knowledge the pair of you could have brought home surely would have moved this kingdom in a proper direction." Nonong stated.

Selong sighed. "Well, that was what we had intended to do. Sail and write books, until peace moved from our imagination to reality on these shores."

"It’s a beautiful thought. But a kingdom at peace would have no need for an intermediary. I’d be out of a job. I probably wouldn't be here negotiating terms." Nonong chuckled.

Selong smiled. "A world that has no need for soldiers is a good world. I’m sure a brilliant man such as yourself would find something else to do."

Nonong thumbed through the book. "And after the shipwreck, what occurred? How did you survive this long?”

Selong looked at him thoughtfully. "I survived because I promised to return and marry someone, and that's what I intend to do."

He sighed heavily. "We shouldn't have sailed that night, but the new King Miong sent us an urgent missive. We were in need of more metal for forge. The mountains were beginning to run dry of ores. The population was growing but the land we had for crops remained inadequate. More than ever, it was necessary to reclaim land, but that could not be done without weapons. We sailed right into a storm on our way to trade steel. I do not think anyone in my crew survived. I held on to driftwood, tied myself to it. I asked God: Let me live. I have someone in this world I love more than my life and he is waiting for me. Let me see him. Let me live. I prayed through the night and the next day, floated through the dead bodies of my crew. I was delirious from hunger and exertion. When I next woke, I had somehow floated close to a shore, and with all my remaining strength, I swam for land. This ordeal had gotten to me. I thought for a moment I had miraculously arrived to my homeland. I started calling the names of my love, my friends, as I crawled ashore. I screamed myself hoarse for them, so eager to be reunited. Men in uniform ran to me and talked to me in a foreign tongue. My strength fell when I heard them speak because I did not know the language, though I spoke many. I had drifted too far and I knew not where I was. I fell forward and lost consciousness. When I came to, my throat was parched and I was handed a cup of water. They brought me into their religious leader's home. The elderly woman spoke to me in drawings, and I was able relay to her what happened to me with ink and paper, drawing my ship in a storm. She sympathized and provided me food and lodging for two days until I had recovered enough to attempt returning. They were not well-travelled people. They only had maps to neighboring islands with which they traded. Their ships weren't made for crossing seas. I was terrified that I would be confined to the region for the rest of my life, but I decided to forge ahead until I could find a ship. The rest of those years were spent in hard labor, learning skills to afford passage and serving as crew to surly, foreign captains. I learned to smith, fish, gamble, and sell my sword for any voyage hoping I will soon a find a port with a ship headed home. I became the soldier I never wanted to be. I fought in alleys and killed unsavory characters for other unsavory characters, because it was a skill I could trade. At times, I had no choice but to sail with raiders and I despaired what my love would think of me when he learns what I have become. But I told myself that if he loved me, he would forgive what I did to return to his side. I would leave all of these sins behind once I'm in his arms."

Nonong nodded in understanding. "It has been a difficult twenty years. I can see that in your eyes; your pains have yet to be lifted."

Selong nodded. "This past year, I had to make a difficult decision. I had earned the favor of a captain who was assembling a fleet. He was sailing towards this kingdom to pillage the small coastal villages, not knowing it was my home. I could've let him, I could’ve done as we had planned, then ran ashore and taken my love with me. We would have lived in splendor, off of raider gold and silver. But I realized the sinister change in me when I considered the offer. My love would not have been pleased to know how much I have let my soul become corrupted. So instead, as the captain sailed to this sea, I sank their ships with their own cannons, ignited the gunpowder aboard and swam for shore, letting them all burn."

Nonong sat up. "Does the king know this yet?"

Selong shook his head. "I have yet to speak decently with the king. But we are safe for now. I’ve written to the coastal chiefs and the ports. Only a handful of the raider ships survived and they would have no chance at winning now that the villages have been alerted. They don’t mean to wage war. They mean to loot and kill anyone close to shore, raid the port of gold and goods, and then escape quickly back to the sea once the army comes to our defenses."

Selong turned to him seriously. "I suppose your allegiances are to your homeland and not to ours, but you should know that if you let us fall to raider attacks, they attack you next. El Viejo is not too far from the coastal lands."

Nonong nodded. "As an arbiter of peace, you can trust me."

Selong laughed bitterly. "No one is worthy of trust."

-

Cayo shook the rain out of his eyes. He finally found the king, standing in the clearing with his stallion's rein in his hand.

"Your Majesty, the King Consort sent me to find you." Cayo said as he dismounted. "Please, if I may be so bold as to ask you a favor, return to the castle. He is worried sick."

Miong indicateed the tree. Cayo paused when he realized where they were.

"Lord Alzona, you have been friends with Pole since he was a young child. Do you know of this place?" Miong asked carefully.

Cayo shook his head.

Miong gave him a look of disbelief. Cayo maintained his silence and Miong waved him off. "Cancel the search. Tell them I will return momentarily."

Cayo wavered where he stood. He wanted to protect this sacred place, but he could not do that without alerting the king of its significance. "Your Majesty?"

"Go."

Cayo bowed and left the king, only turning when Miong added, "And forget that you ever found me here!"

As soon as Cayo disappeared from his sight, Miong circled the tree quizzically. Every year, on the anniversary of the shipwreck, and the fifth of May, Pole would tell him that he was heading to the woods to pray. Once, Miong had followed him stealthily, wondering if Pole had been true about his need for privacy and prayer. Pole did exactly as he had said, prayed at this very tree. And he always returned withdrawn.

Miong had always wondered what had happened in May. Had it been the day of Selong’s proposal? The day they had planned to be married? He knelt down at the tree's massive roots when he glanced an engraved name. It was so small it could be mistaken for the cracks of the tree’s bark. It read "Marcelo, my love." And next to it. "Our beloved daughter."

Miong's blood ran cold as he read it over and over again. _Our beloved daughter_. He touched the soil, distraught. He knew that Pole had once buried his former lover's keepsakes. He had seen Pole smuggle it from his family's home to the woods. Yet what laid in the soil next to it? A baby?

Miong turned to his stallion and rode for the castle, not minding the wind whipping his face.

-

Nonong stood. "I understand if you do not trust me. Thank you anyway for sharing your story."

Selong nodded. "You got what you wanted. Now, I would like to ask a favor."

Nonong inclined his head. "What can I do for you?"

Selong gave Nonong a searching look. “You have the air of someone who knows things, or can at least suss it out. Find out if His Majesty knew about the storm that felled my ship."

"You suspect His Majesty knowingly sent you and your crew to your deaths? Nonong asked, attempting to hide his amusement.

Selong did not respond right away. His voice was low, heavy with importance, when he spoke. "I was out to sea for four years with almost no reprieve before the wreck. More than a few times, he sent me to places where I caught the tail end of a storm."

Selong noted gravely. "He is his father's son after all. I would not be surprised by his bloodthirst."

-

Miong urged himself to calm down when he spied the highest turrets of the castle. He pulled on his horse's reins, slowed its pace to a trot. Unbidden, a memory of Pole's pregnancy came to mind. When Ysabel had confirmed Pole's pregnancy, Miong had stayed by Pole's bedside. When Pole woke, Miong had told him of their good news, the heir growing in his belly, and the battle won. Miong asked him if he could tell the court of the baby to come. Pole had stayed still in his bed, sitting up and looking forward, a frown on his face.

"Let's wait until the child is born," he had advised.

Miong had leaned back on his chair. "Why keep it hidden? Is that a superstition from your village?"

Pole shook his head. "No—Just, it's no use making everyone excited right now. What if something happens to the baby before it's born?"

Miong tried to give him a reassuring smile. "I won't let anything happen to our child."

Pole looked at him hollowly. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, you don't control everything."

Pole had refused to leave the bed for the first few weeks. Miong slept the furthest he could on the bed, uncertain of what had come over his consort. Ysabel visited Pole on a weekly basis to check on his health and Miong accosted her towards the end of the first month.

"His health seems fine, but he’s distant. Is this normal?"

Ysabel looked at him kindly. "Your Majesty, I appreciate your concern, but you needn't worry. Sometimes, it takes a while to settle in. The idea of being pregnant and being a parent, I mean. Pole said he reads books in bed so he's not entirely withdrawn. Just give him time."

Miong released a slow breath. "Should I speak to him? Would it help?"

Ysabel shrugged. "I can't pretend to know what would please him. But certainly he would appreciate knowing he will not go through this alone."

 Ysabel held Miong's arm gently. "Be good to him."

"I always am," Miong assured. He went through the motions of his daily tasks, until finally the sun began to set.

Miong ran over the things he could say or do which would give Pole peace of mind. He paced outside of their bedchambers, gathering courage. Nothing in his life so far had ever prepared him for the comforting of his pregnant husband. Miong walked in slowly, careful not to disturb Pole lest he was sleeping. He found Pole in bed, writing a missive.

"Pole," he called out. "How are you feeling?"

Pole looked at him, face shrouded in darkness. He had pulled the bed curtains around him, the candlelight spilling only below his shoulders.

"The same," Pole responded, voice barely above a whisper.

Miong sat on the opposite side of the bed. "Does your pregnancy cause you pain?"

"Some nausea," Pole said dismissively. "Nothing I can't handle."

Miong looked down at his lap. "That's good to hear."

A long silence fell between them.

Miong sighed. "I—I look forward to seeing the child. What do you suppose it would be? A boy? Or a girl?"

Miong saw Pole's fingers tighten around the quill.

"A girl, I hope," Pole responded, voice small.

Miong had looked at him in surprise. "I was almost certain you were hoping for a boy."

Pole blinked at him, surprised. "Why?"

"A boy would carry on my name. You won't have to bear another child for me, if it were a boy.” Miong paused. “Though I would happily change laws for a daughter if you truly wanted one to be my heir.”

Pole sighed. "I am your husband, Your Majesty. You are my alpha. This is nothing to me. I will bear your children."

"It means nothing?"

"I don't mean that it I think this is meaningless—"

"This means everything to me."

Pole sighed.

"I didn't mean it in such a harsh way, that our family doesn’t matter. I only meant that this pain is momentary. I will be fine. I never wished you to believe that this child meant nothing." Pole continued to explain, "Plenty of people before me have conceived and given birth without problems, so you need not worry about me."

Miong shook his head. "You are my husband, co-ruler of my home and my land. I cannot help but worry. Or does my concern cause you pain?"

Pole shook his head. "Any pain I feel is not your doing, nor is it something you can alleviate. But answer me this, don't you worry for the child I'm bearing, knowing that I'm an invalid?"

Miong paused to consider his answer. "I don't think any less of you because you cannot walk. You are a person of values and wisdom. Any child would be lucky to call you their father."

Miong frowned when he had a thought. "Is that why you’ve been quiet? If anyone ever made you feel unworthy of being my husband or bearing my child, speak their name and I will see to it that they are punished accordingly."

And to Miong's surprise, Pole gave him soft smile and said, "Apolinario."

Miong's face softened. He reached over and gently took Pole's hand in his. "As the scoundrel is my husband, I grant him a royal pardon. I only ask that he never speak or think so ill of himself ever again. He is more than worthy. In fact, I am the one being honored."

Pole nodded. "Your husband will try if you so command."

Miong smiled.

That night, he noticed Pole slept slightly closer to him than before. Miong felt heartened, glad to have eased even a little of Pole's discomfort. He had thought that he had chipped away at some of Pole’s defenses that night, that he had been allowed into Pole’s inner thoughts.

Miong remembered how he had asked Pole, as Pepe began kicking with regularity, if it pained him.

Pole had laughed him off. "Why would it pain me? It's proof that our child is alive and well. It's as good to me as touching her chest and feeling her heartbeat."

Pole always referred to the child as if it were a girl, so hopeful that it would be what he prayed it was, and now Miong realized what it meant. He had been hoping for another daughter because he had lost one, and he had been scared that since he was not able to carry the last one to term, this too may perish before birth. He wanted ardently for this child to live because he hoped this child bore his dead daughter's soul. Pole had always been the religious sort.

But he loves you and he loves his sons, Miong told himself as he dismounted and headed for the castle, soaking wet and shivering.

Are you enough though? Another part of his mind asked. Are you and your sons better than the daughter and lover he lost? Miong unclasped the soaked fur from his shoulders, feeling it weigh him down and beginning to choke him. He let it fall in a wet heap.

Miong saw two guards running towards him with a palanquin to shield him from the rain. He waved them away and trudged up the castle steps. He asked for a hot bath the moment he saw a maid pass him by the doors. She tutted at the state of him but did as she was asked.

"The King Consort," Miong asked a guard. "Where is he?"

"In his study, Your Majesty, speaking with Fray Valerio."

Miong paused. Pole often wrote to his godfather, but rarely did the head priest come to visit. Pole's teacher preferred the peace of the convent to the bustle of city life and the restless energy of the castle. He walked briskly towards Pole's study, anxious to learn the cause of Fray Valerio's visit. The guards posted at the study announced him immediately, alarm forming on their faces when they took in his state.

Miong entered and saw Pole looking pale. Fray Valerio stood for him in respect, but was clearly unimpressed with him. Pole motioned for him to come forward.

"What are you doing?" Pole asked weakly, indicating his clothes. "You will get sick."

Miong shook his head. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't be. Guards!"

Miong looked at Fray Valerio. "We have a guest. Pole, I—"

Fray Valerio sat down. "If you wish to ask why I am here, Your Majesty, then I will remain here until you have changed out of your wet garments."

The guards entered. Miong held up a hand to stop them. He took Pole from the chair himself. "I wish to speak with you first. I hope you don't mind. I'm afraid I'm drenched."

Pole held onto his shirt. "Yes, I've noticed."

Miong excused himself and Pole from the room. He gripped his husband tightly. "I'm sorry."

Pole laid the side of his head against Miong's chest. "I'm sorry too. I should have told you."

Miong shook his head. "I was out of line."

"I shouldn't have left like that. I shouldn't have worried you. It was childish of me to act that way." Pole touched his chest. "I'm just glad you're home. I need to explain and I need you to listen."

Miong sighed heavily as Pole reached to open their chamber door "I will listen, but before we begin, I need you to know something."

Pole looked up at him.

"I love you more than my own life."

Pole touched his cheek. "Don't say something like that when you've just challenged a man to a duel, it scares me."

Miong turned to smile against his hand. "I won't let him win."

"I would rather you not duel him at all," Pole said sharply, taking his hand.

Miong felt a sting in his heart. He changed the topic. "Will you join me in the bath?"

"Fray Valerio is waiting for us."

Miong sighed. He set Pole down on the bed and shed his clothes, leaving them on their chamber floor. He turned and saw Pole carefully inspecting his books. He walked off, towards the bath where the pool had been filled with hot water. Pole set his books aside when Miong left the room. From the bath, he heard the amplified sound of Miong stepping into the pool, water sloshing around him.

"Pole," Miong's voice called out. "Why was it necessary to have this conversation with Fray Valerio? Am I that much in trouble that only God can help me?"

Miong paused. Pole can hear the forced cheer in his voice. "You're not seeking an annulment, are you?"

"No, that's not why he's here."

Pole reached for a cloth and dried the wet spots on his clothes where Miong held him. "He knew Selong and he knew about our relationship."

Pole heard the sloshing of the water stop.

"Tell me that he was not as fond of Marcelo as he is of me."

Pole smiled at the floor. "He admits to disliking you both, but I think he disliked Selong more. He discovered Selong's notebooks as a student, full of mock prayers. Spare us o Lord from these sly gits which we are about to be taught in dunce county, through friars we can’t afford, amen."

Pole laughed at the memory. His laughter was cut short when he realized Miong was not laughing. "I'm sorry. It was a fond childhood memory."

He heard Miong rise from the bath, the sound of his wet feet hitting stone. "I realize you had a life before me. I don't mind it."

Miong re-emerged from the bath, wet and nude. Pole looked at his books again.

"It would help me speak to you about this if you were more honest about how you feel," Pole said quietly. “You’re angry.”

Miong violently opened a drawer. "I am angry. Not at you. Not even at Marcelo. But at our circumstances. I don't want to have to deal with your former lover and whatever else you may feel for him."

Miong rifled through the clothes, taking blindly, randomly. He did not want to be agitated, but he was. He had always been jealous of the years Selong had with Pole, and it unsettled him to know Pole still remembered them fondly.

Pole nodded. "I understand. But we're bonded, you and I, by marriage and by love. Doesn't that give you reprieve?"

Miong huffed. He decided to answer truthfully. "Not while he draws breath and yearns for you."

Pole frowned. "Omegas have come and gone in this court, trying to attract you, and it never concerned me."

Miong faced him, shirt in hand. "Entirely different matter, my love. I never looked at them twice. This one, you once considered marrying."

Pole closed his eyes. "Don't call me 'my love' and insult me in the same breath. I always have and always will honor my vows to you. I would never cheat on you, never."

Miong wanted very much for that to be true, but he knew too that people of honor could be pushed to do terrible things, and even saints have been tempted, even the best of them have sinned.

"And another thing, _my love_ ," Miong added angrily as he walked towards Pole. "Why do you call me 'my love'? Is it really me you think of?"

"What do you—"

"Marcelo, _my love_ , written on his grave—"

"How dare you—"

"And a daughter?"

Pole's eyes watered. "How long have you known?"

Miong felt his chest seize. "I knew where you prayed. I just didn't know who you prayed to until today."

"Was that where you went?"

"Yes."

A tear ran down Pole's cheek but he ignored it. "If you truly loved me, why would you do that?"

Miong turned and headed back to the drawer. Pole looked ahead, unblinking, at the wall across him. He felt betrayed.

"Shall we continue this with Fray Valerio?" Miong asked, his throat tight as he dressed.

"Yes," Pole said, turning away to wipe his tears.

Miong stepped out of their chamber before he had properly fixed his buttons. He told the guards posted outside to bring Pole to the study.

Fray Valerio stood when Miong entered the study alone. "I take it you've begun discussing the matter with my godson?"

Miong nodded grimly.

"Will he be joining us?"

"Shortly." Miong took a seat and the priest followed suit. "How much have you discussed so far?"

Miong looked at him coldly. "That you knew about him and Marcelo. And I told Pole that I know about the graves."

Fray Valerio looked at him critically. "You're a fool to distrust my godson. He would never knowingly do anything that would cause you harm."

"Am I supposed to trust your words? You married us and yet neglected to tell me about Marcelo."

"As I'm sure no one told Pole about your former lovers. The past is the past, and you're better off leaving it there."

Miong turned away. Fray Valerio stood when Pole was carried into the study in his palanquin.

"Godfather," Pole greeted. "Your Majesty."

They settled down shortly. Fray Valerio spoke. "Selong and Pole's bond weakened twenty years ago when they separated. I know your alpha instincts are displeased that a bond still exists, however weak, but instinct is subject to the control of the mind. You two are bonded in matrimony and love and family. It is within your power to exile Selong if you feel that this will protect your bond."

Pole threw Fray Valerio a surprised look. His godfather sensed his displeasure and continued pointedly. "However it would be unjust to do that to him. I advise you to reward him for his valor instead. He almost died in your service and fought for the last twenty years to return home. If word travelled to me correctly, he even took down raider ships that had been eyeing our shores. An admirable feat. Give him a home, far enough away that you will see neither hair nor hide of him. Broker a suitable engagement for him. Shower him in enough gold to live comfortably. You have on your hands a man who has nothing but his former love. Give him something else to cherish and he will not bother you anymore."

Miong considered this for a moment. "He will reject it. I know a single-minded man when I see one."

"Initially," Fray Valerio agreed. "But Pole will rebuke him and he will tire of his courtship. He will find no joy in his hopeless cause, and he will accept the engagement."

Miong shook his head. "That's unlikely."

Fray Valerio frowned. "You say that only because you wish to take his life, because your honor and your instinct command it, but I can assure you that this can be dealt with without bloodshed. This is not a war. It is a spat between two alphas whose egos cannot be contained."

Miong's jaw clenched. "I will consider your proposal. However, should he be a constant nuisance and threat to my marriage, I will slay him."

Pole spoke. "Killing him would reflect badly on you. Consider that, at least. A king who kills his people without just cause is not a worthy leader."

Miong stared at Pole. "Is your concern really for me? For the people's opinion of me? You already know how they curse my name for this war."

Pole looked at him sadly. "This war is a necessity. Killing an innocent man is not. It would be petty. And the whole kingdom knows he lives, he is a walking example of God’s mercy and grace. You would not be looked on by the people with favor if you were to duel a miracle."

Miong turned away from him. "There is still the matter of your child. The daughter you buried."

Pole inhaled sharply. "She passed more than twenty years ago. Please let her rest in peace."

Fray Valerio held up a hand. "If I may, Pole. I know this is a difficult memory for you. She passed at five months, before she ever saw the light of day. I blessed her body, and with Pole's brothers, helped bury her by a weirwood tree so that God can protect her. She was Marcelo's illegitimate daughter, that's true. But why agonize over Marcelo's tragedy when you have two healthy sons? Do not give Pole grief for bearing a child that wasn't yours. He was bonded to another before you. It had nothing to do with you."

Miong looked down at his hands. "I admit that my instincts bristle at the thought of you being bonded before me. But my pain stems from you lying to me by omission."

Miong looked at Pole. His heart tugged when he saw his red face, the unshed tears in his eyes.

"I wish I told you." Pole admitted. "So we wouldn't have had to hurt each other like this."

Miong nodded. "I'm sorry for moments such as this when I break my vow to be good to you. But when I think of you leaving, I lose my mind. I won’t say any more about the child you lost, and I will think about the duel. I will consider what can be done about Selong that does not involve bloodshed."

Fray Valerio looked at them. "We all have our faults. Your marriage will never be perfect, for that very reason. But if you acknowledge your mistakes and seek to do right, you will find peace."

Pole nodded. "Thank you, godfather. We tried to talk about this on our own and it was very unpleasant."

"I could tell."

"Do the children know?"

"Only about the duel and my past with Selong, but not much else."

"Where are they now?"

"With their teachers."

"I trust that you will be able explain the matter to them. Otherwise, bring them along to the convent." Fray Valerio smiled at his godson.

Pole smiled back, if a little forced. "Won't you stay for dinner?"

"I'm afraid my duties can no longer be delayed. Some other time, Pole."

Fray Valerio stood to embrace his godson. He tipped his head down for Miong. "Your Majesty."

"May you have a safe journey home."

Silence followed after Fray Valerio closed the door behind him. Miong stood and walked over to Pole's wall where a map of the known world hanged. Miong found the smallest of marks in the middle of the ocean. "I never noticed before, but you were trying to find the shipwreck."

"Miong," Pole pleaded. "I stopped years ago. What does it matter if I tried to find it?"

Miong drew away from the map. "I love you. That's precisely why this is killing me."

Miong exhaled loudly. "You'll have the map removed. It should be gone after dinner. If I have to make concessions, then I expect the same from you. I can’t settle quietly when there are reminders of him around you."

Pole's bottom lip shook. "Of course. I live to serve you. Would you have me stop seeing my daughter's grave as well?"

He was met with stony silence.

"Every time I think we're fine, you find something new to be angry about," Pole said with intense dissatisfaction. "Why can't we leave it be?"

"You don't understand how it feels. You and your beta godfather. My mind isn't meant to work that way. My mind rebels at the thought of someone trying to steal you away from me. Know that I won’t let that happen. I will protect what is mine." Miong turned away as Pole covered his face with his hands. He headed for his chamber.


	4. Sons of Summer

The courtyard had been quiet when Pepe began practicing his sword fighting. Goyong, though younger, had given a startling performance at their last duel, and it made Pepe feel incompetent that he could be bested so easily. He picked up the heaviest of wooden swords and practiced his form, picturing his own brother in front of him, aiming for his throat. He was unaware of the boy slowly making his way towards him, careful to stay out of sight.

Pepe dropped his wooden sword in surprise when Andoy snuck up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and spinning him around for a kiss. Pepe drew away, stunned, before a smile spread over his face.

"Andoy!" He gasped as he threw his arms around him. "How did you get here?"

Andoy picked him up and perched him on the lowest branch of the acacia tree. Pepe straddled the tree, laughing as Andoy squeezed his ankle affectionately. Once Pepe was secure, Andoy hopped up to join him. Pepe pushed away a leaf that tickled his ear.

"My father's here on a business trip. Obviously, I snuck away to see you." Andoy pressed a lingering kiss to his brow. "I missed you. Letters weren't enough."

Pepe nodded.

"I liked your last poem," Pepe whispered against Andoy's lips as the boy began leaving kisses all over his face.

"Still not as good as yours," Andoy mumbled against his jaw. "You should come to my country as my tutor and teach me. You’ll have a special chamber right next to mine."

Pepe laughed at the thought. "You're ridiculous. You'd have to sell your entire estate to afford classes with a prince."

 Andoy laughed and ran hands down his side. "I'm sorry, but you clearly haven't seen our estate. It's worth more than just a class."

Pepe snorted. "You're saying I'm cheap?"

Andoy grinned. "Not at all, just that you're not the only person in this tree who's royalty so watch your words, sir. I could do many things to you."

Pepe smiled. He opened his legs and pulled Andoy closer to him. "I wish you could stay here forever. You can be a ward. You’re not too old yet."

Andoy breathed in the perfume in Pepe's hair. "I wish I could too but your fathers hate me."

"Father," Pepe corrected. "Just one."

Andoy cupped the back of Pepe's head with his hand, pulling lightly on his hair to urge him to look up at Andoy's face. "We could elope. All we need is one a ship and a very discreet crew."

Pepe smiled. His smile dropped when Andoy did not smile back, simply looked at him as if waiting for him to say that it was a good idea. "You're joking, aren't you?"

Andoy sighed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

Pepe pushed him away gently. "You know I can't. I'm the heir."

 Andoy groaned. "I'm aware and I don't like being reminded."

"Sorry."

Andoy reached down and took Pepe's hands in his. "I have to tell you something important. I couldn't do it over a letter."

Pepe frowned. "What is it?"

Andoy looked at him sadly. Pepe squeezed his hands in encouragement.

"My father has arranged for my marriage. I'm engaged."

Andoy watched Pepe's face crumble. He looked down at the grass, readying himself for Pepe's goodbye.

"Marry me."

Andoy blinked at him.

Pepe took a deep breath and gripped Andoy's hands tightly. "I, Jose of the Aguinaldo family, heir to the throne, ask for your hand in marriage."

Andoy was gobsmacked for a few seconds, before he pulled Pepe to him and whispered "yes" into his open mouth.

"Oh crap," Goyong muttered to himself when he walked in on his brother and Andoy in the courtyard. He had only meant to come here to practice and instead had to be treated to his brother’s indiscretions. He raised his wooden sword to his eyes. It barely blocked the view. He hastily turned around and decided to spend his free time elsewhere. He wandered over to the stables and found it bereft of servants, as they had departed for dinner. He thought back to his and Pepe's bet and decided this was a perfectly good time to win himself a gold pocket watch. He took his horse and quietly led her away.

Pepe was trying to sneak Andoy into his room. He asked for the help of servants that he trusted to clear the halls so that they would not be spotted. Andoy was equal parts nervous and excited, jumping more than Pepe did at any sound or movement. He held Pepe against him in a dark corner, heart beating loud and erratic, as they waited for silence and stillness before continuing.

“I want you,” Andoy whispered against the curve of his ear, hands running down Pepe’s back. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Pepe gasped when Andoy’s hand reached down to his buttocks, gently pressing a finger to his hole. The fabric of his undergarments dragged perfectly against his sensitive skin and he felt fire in his veins. “You can have me. But wait, please, or I won’t be able to walk.”

Andoy grinned and pressed his finger just a bit more before pulling away. They parted minutely when they heard the footsteps of the servants. The two maids beckoned, indicating that the hallway was empty. Pepe pushed Andoy ahead of him. Pepe thanked the maids copiously for their service and told them to ask him of anything and he will grant it. The maids giggled and hushed him, bidding him to be careful and to not miss dinner.

Pepe walked swiftly into his bedchambers where Andoy was already waiting, pacing the room, in his hand was piece of prose that Pepe had left lying on the table.

“What cruelty have we made of the world that those born in poverty die in poverty, that peasants remain peasants despite loftier dreams and back-breaking work? His Highness, my father, the commoner before his marriage, is proof that greatness and wisdom can hail from humble beginnings, yet he himself would have lived the life of a farmer, had the noble Fray Valerio not noticed his intellect. We must look into ourselves and realize these faults, move away from the shadows so that we may see what light God has given us. There is great potential that lies dormant in our midst. I bid you notice the brilliance in our poor brothers and sisters, for genius is like the light, the air. It is the heritage of all.”

Andoy smiled and put the paper aside. “Do you plan on making a speech?”

Pepe smiled shyly. He walked over, took the paper, and inserted it into the pages of a book. “It was just a thought that passed my mind. I think about my coronation often. It thrills and terrifies me at the same time. One of the things I’ve always wanted to do was to make proper education accessible for everyone.”

Andoy held him by the waist. “It’s a beautiful plan.”

“But an unrealistic one.”

Andoy shrugged. “Perhaps not. Maybe not all at once. Just little by little until more educated people choose to become teachers, and with every generation, there are more learned children. Imagine the advancements we could make with so many scholars running about.”

Pepe stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

Andoy grabbed him firmly by the waist and lifted him.

Pepe held on by his shoulders, laughing. “So eager.”

“I don’t want you to miss dinner.”

Pepe laughed again. He braced himself when Andoy laid him atop the mattress, dragging Andoy on top of him by the front of his shirt. He cupped Andoy’s face gently, basking in the warm press of their bodies against each other. “I want you here forever. I want you by my side when I ascend the throne, your wisdom guiding me, always.”

Andoy smiled and pressed a kiss against his forehead. “You’re wiser than I am. I think I’m better suited to wielding a sword and fighting your wars. Your father is getting old anyway. He must appreciate that I would be giving him a break.”

Pepe laughed and nodded against him. “That would be fine as well.”

“I could execute your enemies for you too. I know you don’t like violence.”

Pepe snorted and slapped a hand on Andoy’s chest. “That won’t be necessary. We have a dungeon.”

“And if the dungeon is full?”

“We exile them to your country.”

“We hang our criminals, you know.”

“Technically, they are OUR criminals so your laws don’t apply.”

“Not if they set foot on our land.”

Pepe paused thoughtfully. “You know I studied my kingdom’s laws, but I realize I don’t know much about the laws in other countries.”

Andoy groaned as he sensed where this conversation was going. “Must we talk about laws and criminals and differences on the night of our engagement?”

Pepe grinned. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

Andoy pressed down against him, and Pepe noticed it – the scent of him, the desire. His skin prickled at the realization. “I’m not sure I know what to do.”

“Am I your first?”

Pepe nodded. “Am I your first too?”

“Of course. And my last.”

Pepe smiled, but it faltered. “This would be easier if I were an omega. I’d have some instinct as to how to please you.”

Andoy leaned down to kiss his neck, inhaling his skin. “You are far better than any omega I’ve ever met.”

Andoy sat up and began unlacing Pepe’s garb. “Have you ever thought of this?”

“All of the time, since I met you,” Pepe admitted, face reddening at the admission.

Andoy’s eyes widened. “That was two years ago.”

“A long two years. You haven’t… You’ve never thought of this?”

Andoy parted Pepe’s shirt and paused to admire the sight of him. “I did, but I didn’t think you would.”

Pepe smiled. “I’m not so innocent.”

Andoy touched him between his legs, over the cloth of his pants, back and forth over his hardening cock, down to his balls, and an insistent finger against his hole. Pepe moaned softly under him, spreading his legs wider.

“No, you’re definitely not innocent,” Andoy whispered back. “What did you think of, these past two years?”

“I thought about lying right here with you, touching you.”

“What else?”

“I—“ Pepe closed his eyes, flushed. “I thought of you, between my legs, taking me.”

Andoy groaned in want at the thought. “Did you touch yourself while you were thinking of me?”

“I did.”

“Show me.” Andoy stopped touching him, kneeling between Pepe’s legs and waiting.

Pepe opened his eyes and sat up gingerly. He unlaced the string of his pants and lowered it enough to free his cock, hard under Andoy’s words and ministrations. He looked down, cheeks red and his ears beginning to take the same shade as he jerked his cock. His breaths grew ragged as he pictured his hand as Andoy’s, the scent of desire growing thicker between them. His legs drew together instinctively when he felt his orgasm building and Andoy caught his wrist.

“Don’t come yet.”

Pepe made a soft noise of protest, but he released his cock. He shuddered when he noticed that Andoy had lowered his pants and had been touching himself while watching him.

“Is that the only place you touch?”

Pepe shook his head.

“Where else?”

Pepe took Andoy’s hand and pressed it against his hole, through his pants. “Here.”

Andoy pressed a rough kiss against his lips, his tone commanding as he whispered “show me” once their lips parted.

Pepe drew away from him and crawled to the side of the bed, to his drawer. He opened it and withdrew a vial of oil. He sat against the headboard and shimmied out of his pants, tossing it aside with one hand.

“I… I’m not an omega so I need this,” Pepe said softly as he uncorked the oil and poured some on his hand. “But sometimes, I wish I was. I’d be in heat and the bond would pull on you. You’d know when I wanted you, and I—I’d be wet and ready for you without needing all of this preparation.”

Andoy palmed his cock as he watched Pepe spread his legs and press an oiled finger to his hole, circling the rim until it made his hole glisten, droplets of oil trickling down to the sheets. Pepe inserted a finger and it penetrated him with little resistance. He shivered at the sight of Andoy’s face, his obvious arousal. His shirt slid from his shoulders as he began moving his finger in and out of his hole, and he sighed in delight when Andoy’s cock twitched at the sight of him.

Andoy groaned softly. “I’d carry a vial of oil with me wherever I go. I don’t care if you’re not an omega. I’d take you wherever you want.”

Pepe shivered at the words. “I thought about that. About you slicking me up while you sat on the throne, putting me on your lap and taking me in front of everyone.” Pepe pushed in another finger, eyeing Andoy’s cock, imagining it inside him. He felt precome drip from his slit, down his cock.

Andoy moved toward him, kneeling just inches away, watching up close as Pepe penetrated himself with his fingers.

“Is that what you think of when you sit in court with your parents?” Andoy asked hotly against his cheek. “Me, taking you in front of all your subjects? You, screaming my name as if no one else could give you pleasure?”

Pepe whimpered and nodded, embarrassed at having revealed the fantasies that passed his mind in the idleness of court, how he had to cross his legs and urge himself to think of something else lest someone notice.

“How many fingers do you take?” Andoy asked.

“Two, just two. Three hurts, I’ve only tried it once.”

Andoy pressed his cock against Pepe’s hole and fingers. “This will hurt more, love. Use three.”

Pepe shivered and positioned a third finger against his hole, but he felt Andoy’s finger there first, dry and pushing in around his tightness, sliding in under his two fingers.

“Andoy,” Pepe begged, clutching Andoy’s shirt. “Gently,” he gasped. “Gently, please.”

Andoy pulled his finger out and splashed oil all over his hand. He pushed in again, whispering softly against Pepe’s ear, asking if this was gentle enough. Pepe’s breathing hitched. He felt Andoy’s hand move his right leg, pressing his own hardness against it.

“You’re so hot here,” Andoy gasped into his hair. “So tight. It’s just my finger inside you and I’m already losing my mind.”

Pepe’s breath stuttered. “You can take me. Take me. I don’t care if it hurts.”

Pepe pulled his fingers out. He groaned when Andoy pushed two fingers in to replace them, the oil inside him barely made it easy. His hole was clenching involuntarily at the intrusion. Pepe held onto him with both hands.

“Am I hurting you?”

Yes, Pepe thought, but I want it even so. “I’ll be fine.”

Andoy thrust his fingers in and out of Pepe’s hole, and Pepe twitched against him, feeling the stretch, the burning slide, and the building pleasure as Andoy tried to find where to thrust to make him gasp, make his cock jump.

“Please,” Pepe begged. “I want to feel you inside me.”

Pepe felt Andoy’s inhale sharply against him. He pulled his fingers out and Pepe slumped against the headboard, grip going slack against Andoy’s arms. Andoy reached for the vial of oil and poured it onto his palm, pumping his cock with it while watching Pepe’s face.

“You’re mine,” he said with finality.

“I am. I’m yours.”

Andoy kissed him hard. “I love you. I will wed you and I will take you every night on this bed. I will show you how much I love you everyday.”

Pepe nodded and reached for him. “I love you. I love you. Do whatever you want.”

Andoy moaned into his mouth and then parted from Pepe just enough to see what he was doing, to watch as he pressed the head of his cock to Pepe’s hole. Pepe clutched at him. He was shaking as the stretch burned despite the preparation. Andoy took him slowly, whispering encouragement into his ear “a little more, you feel perfect, so perfect love, I love you” and in turn Pepe held him and kissed his skin wherever he could reach, whimpering in pain but tugging on Andoy’s clothes, urging him on. Andoy pumped his cock and Pepe keened as his mind tried to process both the pain and the pleasure, his nerves firing, overloaded with sensation.

At last, Andoy was sheathed in him, and the two of them paused for breath. Pepe whimpered softly as he adjusted to the new sensation and Andoy had to caution himself quietly from fucking into Pepe with abandon.

“Are you ready?”

Pepe took a deep breath and nodded.

Andoy began thrusting. He was moaning with every snap of his hips as he watched Pepe’s face, red and lax. His eyelids were closing. His mouth was falling open, releasing soft, steady, “ _ah, ah, ah_ ” with every thrust. Andoy pumped Pepe’s cock with his thrusts, felt precome trickling down his fingers and he felt a surge of lust at knowing he was the one making Pepe feel this overwhelming arousal. He bit into Pepe’s neck, eliciting a sharp moan of his name. It satisfied him to see marks of his teeth on Pepe’s skin, right where everyone could see.

“I’m close,” Pepe whimpered against him. “Please, I’m so close.”

Andoy pumped him faster and Pepe clenched against him, his legs twitching and wrapping around Andoy as he came, fingers digging into Andoy’s arm. Andoy fucked into him faster, feeling his orgasm draw near. Pepe gasped, boneless, as Andoy continued to milk his cock past his release, his oversensitive skin was barely able to take the touch. The constant touching was not letting him soften, it was taking him past the edge of pain and right back into pleasure as he felt another orgasm build under his skin.

Pepe felt tears escape his eyes. He didn’t feel entirely in control of his body, his mind barely there in the cloud of his arousal.

“Come in me,” Pepe begged. “I want to feel you.”

Andoy fucked him sharply, the sound of his ragged breathing and the slap of skin on skin filling the chamber. He released deep inside Pepe’s hole. His knot was growing at the base of his cock and it stretched Pepe to blissed-out pain.

Pepe was wordless against him as Andoy came down from his high. He kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips.

“Love?” He called quietly.

Pepe made a wordless sound but continued to lie slack between him and the headboard.

“Love, are you all right?” Andoy asked softly.

Pepe’s eyelids fluttered open and he nodded. His hand reached down, past his still-erect cock, down to his hole, red and stretching around Andoy’s knot. Andoy shuddered as Pepe’s fingertip traced over the place where they’re connected.

“I’d hurt you if I pull out now.”

“Don’t,” Pepe replied breathlessly. “Fuck me like this.”

Andoy groaned and pulled Pepe to him for a rough kiss. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“You do the same to me.”

Andoy lifted him away from the headboard and threw him down on the mattress, flat on his back. He began rocking into him with small thrusts, making the knot move and stretch him even more. Pepe closed his eyes and touched his cock to the painfully sweet sensation, encouraging Andoy to give him more.

-

Andoy walked down the hall. He was heading back to the office to where he last saw his father. He wondered anxiously if he had washed enough, if anyone could pick up Pepe's scent on him. He hoped not; he preferred to break the news of his and Pepe's engagement to his father gently. He paused outside the door when he heard his father's agitated voice.

"I don't appreciate your tone, Your Highness. I had never exercised discrimination in the matters of trade. Our steel has always been open for export and it is no fault of mine if your emissaries have been misinforming you!"

The King Consort's voice answered him, equally agitated. "You know as well as I do that we have been engaging in war for decades. We are in constant need for steel. How could it pass our notice that a country five days of seafaring from ours is capable of meeting our demand? It is simply impossible!"

Andoy peeked into the slightly open door. He caught sight of his father pacing.

"You are in a state of war, it's possible that one of your people is working for your enemy and sabotaging your search for supplies."

The King Consort eyed him suspiciously. "My lord, be truthful with me, sixteen years ago, if we had sent traders to you, would you have bartered with us? Or were you exclusively providing steel for our enemies?"

Andoy's father rolled his eyes. "I am not in the business of making enemies. I provide steel for anyone who has the means to pay for it. We stand with no one in this war. I'm not here as your ally, but as your business partner."

Something in the King Consort's face changed, as if a bigger problem than steel supplies had crossed his mind. "I'm very sorry for losing my temper with you. I've had a tiring day, and I've yet to rest. It was rude of me, Lord Bonifacio."

Andoy's father settled into his chair. "I was very rude to you too, so I propose we overlook this and discuss it again peaceably after dinner."

Andoy retreated, trying to look as if he had not been listening. He acted surprised to see his father emerge from the room.

"Father, how fared the meeting?"

"We shall continue after dinner. Come. Tell me, what did you do while I was with the King Consort?"

Andoy told himself not to recall it. "I reacquainted myself with the prince. He's as pleasant as I remember."

His father nodded. "You write him, I hear?"

"Yes, about literature."

Andoy readied himself when they enter the dining hall. He saw Pepe seated at the table, eyeing him anxiously. He gave a consoling smile.

"Actually father, I've an announcement to make," Andoy said as they took their seats, his father exchanging pleasantries with Pepe.

"Here?" His father asked dubiously. "We are guests, son. I take it you know that."

"Yes, but I'm afraid the matter cannot wait."

"All right," his father said. "Let's settle it before the king and his consort arrives."

"Actually," Pepe said, "it concerns them too."

Andoy's father looked at them, confusion written on his face. He assumed the worst. "Has my son done anything to upset you, Your Grace?"

Andoy looked at him in disbelief.

"Why would you assume I've done something wrong?" Andoy asked, as Pepe said, "Not at all. It's good news, actually! At least I hope it is."

"His Majesty, King Emilio, and His Highness, King Consort Apolinario." A guard announced. They all stand as the two entered.

Miong's face was withdrawn and Pole had closed the curtains around his palanquin.

"Lord Santiago," Miong greeted when he spotted Andoy's father.

"Your Majesty, a pleasure as always. I'm accompanied by my heir, Andres." Santiago gestured to his son.

Miong eyed him distastefully. "Yes, I recall. He was present at my son Pepe's coming of age ball."

Santiago smiled. "Ah, we are honored that you remember our presence."

Miong took a seat at the head of the table. The others sat a beat later.

"I trust you've met my heir, Prince Jose?"

Santiago nodded heartily. "Yes, these two are good friends, I believe. They told me they've an announcement of some sort."

Miong stared at Pepe. Pepe reached for Andoy's hand under the table. Pepe was momentarily lost when Pole inquired a guard after Goyong. He tutted when he heard that Goyong's horse was missing from the stables.

"If—if I may have your attention, I've an announcement." Pepe looked at Andoy.

Andoy squeezed his hand.

"I have proposed to Andoy."

Pole's mouth dropped open.

"And I have accepted," Andoy added. "Your Majesty, Your Highness, Lord Father, I hope we have your blessing."

Miong was silent.

Santiago tried to wordlessly communicate with Pole that he had no hand in this, but the King Consort was still at a loss for words. The silent continued for an uncomfortably long time.

Finally, Santiago said, "Your Majesty, Highness, please excuse us."

Santiago took his son's wrist and pulled it up forcefully. "I will speak to my son in private and I will settle this matter at once."

The two departed from the dining hall.

Pepe spoke up with a soft voice. "Please say something."

Miong bristled and Pole held out a hand, quietly begging him not to speak. Still, Miong exploded. "Have you no shame? You have spent your entire life, reading and studying, and yet I still cannot trust you to think wisely for yourself. The Bonifacio boy? That's what you intend to marry? Do you not understand the most basic of reasons why you cannot marry him?"

Pepe bit his bottom lip.

"Well?" Miong demanded. "Have we not taught you at least that much?"

"I know, but I love him," Pepe admitted softly.

"You're just a boy." Miong huffed. "What you think is love is just desire. It passes. You will forget him and marry someone suitable."

Pepe stared down at his plate. Pole had looked down at his lap as well, his jaw clenching and unclenching as Miong continued to speak. "You are a beta. You will not bear children. How do you propose you become king without heirs? Will that alpha boy bear your children? Enlighten me son, how will that work? Or do you wish to abdicate your throne to marry some foreigner's boy?"

Miong glared at the top of Pepe's head. "Well? What was your plan?"

Pepe had no response.

Miong pushed his plate away. It skid across the table and knocked down several glasses. He looked determinedly at the wall as he addressed Pepe. "Leave the table. I will hear no more of this in the morning."

Pepe looked up, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. We've bonded, I'm sorry."

Pole looked across the table at his son and wished more than ever now that he could just stand up and embrace him without the aid of anyone.

"Let me speak t—" Pole tried to say but Miong talked over him. "Bonds weaken over time, and they will weaken for you. That boy will never set foot in this country again and then the pull will be nothing in a few years. You'll be free to build a bond with someone suitable.”

Pepe sniffled and nodded. "I'll go."

Miong waved him off with a sharp flick of his hand.

Pole pushed his own plate away. "Guards, take me to my son's room."

Miong did not look at him as he warned. "Don't encourage him, Pole. This was a poor decision."

Pole glared at him. "I'm aware. But you needn't be harsh. He is your son, he relies on you. You can teach him without breaking his heart."

Miong did not reply and Pole left him to stew in his chair as he angrily pulled the curtains closed around his palanquin.

Santiago returned with a sullen-looking Andoy. "Judging by the state of the table, I take it the announcement did not please you either."

Miong looked at them icily. "Clearly. I must ask you, my Lord, not to bring your son anymore when you visit us."

Santiago nodded. "It's a reasonable request, Your Majesty. He will sleep on the ship and make no contact with the prince. Ever. Not even letters."

Miong nodded. "May I have your word on that, Andres?"

Andoy glared at him. "I will sleep on the ship tonight, Your Majesty."

"Tell me that you will not see my son, Prince Jose, nor attempt to communicate with him in any form."

Andoy gritted his teeth.

"I will not see your son, Prince Jose," Andoy echoed angrily. "Nor communicate with him in any form."

Miong smiled coldly. "Good."

He turned to a guard. "Have a carriage prepared for Lord Santiago's son. Take him to the port and alert the guards at the shore. Make sure they keep an eye on him."

The guard nodded.

Santiago excused himself again. "If I might have one last word with him—"

"Go."

Santiago ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he led his son aside. "You had better stay in that ship. If I see you near the castle, you will be punished. I swear it."

Andoy nodded stiffly. "Yes father."

They turn when a guard came to fetch Andoy.

"Go, and reflect on the trouble you've caused me."

-

Pole sat on a chair by Pepe's bedside. Pepe had drawn the curtains around his bed closed. "Pepe? It's me. I left your father at the table."

He heard Pepe sob softly. "Tay?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I'm sorry about dinner."

"It's all right."

"Have I ruined everything?"

Pole smiled sadly. "No, yours isn't the first engagement that ended disastrously and it won't be the last, I assure you. We'll move past this."

"Dad hates me." Pepe blew his nose wetly and Pole ached. He saw in his mind’s eye his son as a five year-old, snotty and upset at having lost his shoe in a pond.

"He doesn't hate you. He loves you very much. It's just been a terrible day for all of us."

"Oh, that’s right. You two were fighting and I made it worse."

"You didn't," Pole insisted "We're not fighting."

"Tay, you don't have to lie to me about that. I’m not a child," Pepe said in between sobs.

Pole sighed and touched the curtains, wishing his son would draw close the way he always did when he was young and upset.

"Tay, is being heir worth all of this?" Pepe asked, voice breaking.

It was, for Pole. But he could not push that belief on his son.

"Use your own judgment."

"And if my judgment said I'd rather marry for love?"

Pole did not know what to say.

"Would father disown me? Would I be allowed to see you or come home?"

Pole's throat tightened. "You know we love you no matter what, but don't make decisions that will haunt you for the rest of your life. I don't want you to rush into a decision now and live in regret."

Pepe inhaled sharply and coughd. Pole heard him sob harder. "I don't know what to do. I feel like whatever I choose, I'm hurting someone."

Pepe sniffled. "Tay tell me what to do."

Pole hated the words that came to mind, but he spoke it anyway because it was the choice that would not take Pepe away from him. "Listen to your father. He was overly harsh, but he was also right."

Pepe began crying loudly. Pole wanted to hold him until the pain passed, but his son was at an age where his pain was not mended by bandages. He knew this because no amount of embraces from his family had helped him through the shattering news of the shipwreck.

-

Goyong dismounted a few paces away from the hospital grounds. He checked his pack for the belladonna berries and panicked when he found a hole. He squinted at the ground, hoping to at least find a handful of berries to carry out his plot, but the search was unsuccessful. He gave his horse an unimpressed look. "It's going to be take me days to find more of that. I completely left the last bush barren."

His horse did not seem to grasp what a tragedy this was.

He kicked a rock and watched it fly across the dirt with little satisfaction. "I could always just stick a sword into him and say he assaulted me."

"Who assaulted you?"

Goyong turned around. "Paco? Why are you here?"

The palace blacksmith, Paco, raised a brow. "I was wondering the same about you."

Goyong smiled innocently and let a lie roll of his tongue naturally. "I hear they've hired a pretty new nurse."

Paco grinned and shook his head. "You heard wrong. No new nurses. Sorry."

Goyong shrugged. "Seems a shame not to head inside anyway. I rode this far. I'll go in with you. Are you visiting anyone?"

Paco nodded. "I've hired an apprentice smith, but he doesn't have the skills yet. He accidentally cut himself while sharpening swords."

Goyong laughed. "He's still alive, at least, since he's in the hospital, and not the morgue. I’m sure he'll be fine in time. What's his name?"

"Rusca. Eduardo Rusca."

"Rusca, huh?" Goyong asked. 'Where'd you find him?"

Paco sighed. "Not a lot of people know how to work metal these days. Everybody’s trying to be a soldier or a merchant. I've been spreading the notice that I'm looking for an apprentice and he was the only one who seemed to know what he was doing. Orphan boy, bounced around from job to job since he was five so he picked up a few skills."

Goyong smiled. "And yet even he got into an accident."

Paco sighed. "Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, if the trade deal at the palace pans out successfully we'll be working with more steel in the future. Maybe we can break this deadlock and finally win the war. God knows it had been going on for too damn long."

Goyong agreed. "I've never seen my country in a state of peace, can you imagine that? Living your entire life at war?"

Paco snorted. "Oh really, you feel the effects of war? Has His Majesty let you see actual battle?"

Goyong groaned and absently kicked the wall of the hospital. "Don't remind me. D'you know some lords' sons my age are already out on the battlefield? For peasants, well they start out even younger. It's ridiculous."

Paco grinned. "You could escape and just don a foot soldier's armor. And then dramatically reveal yourself as the prince when they declare you hero of a battle."

Goyong nodded. "That might actually work."

Paco laughed, half in horrified surprise. "God, no! You'd get a sword in your throat, that's what. And then your fathers will hang me for putting the idea into your head."

Goyong shrugged. "Maybe. Which would be a shame because your apprentice would probably end up burning your shop."

Paco nodded. "What sad end to my tale. At least take my dead body from the stockade and take me to my shop. Let me burn with it."

"You're rather morbid today, aren't you?"

"You would be too, if you've had to work with bloodied steel, with bits of bodies still clinging to it for the last half decade."

Goyong laughed. "How does your apprentice deal with that?"

"I haven't let him see that yet. He’s about your age so I don’t think he’s seen war. And I'm already short on people. I don't want him running off in fear when I tell him to pick off an eyeball from a dented sword."

Paco opened a door and stilled when he found the room empty. "Strange. This was where he was supposed to be recovering."

Goyong pushed him aside and looked into the room himself. "It smells strange here."

"What do you mean? Do you smell blood?"

Goyong shook his head. "Not that."

Goyong walked off, his skin prickling, his body suddenly overtaken by a burst of energy.

Paco sounded so distant. "Goyong? Goyong?"

Goyong ignored him as he caught that scent again, leading him into the dark parts of the hospital where the dead were taken, and out through the back door. He ran into the cemetery where the uncollected dead bodies were buried, passing several miles of nameless graves before he saw the woods. The scent grew stronger, sharper. Goyong could tell that whoever was giving off the smell was close and circling the area. He entered the woods.

-

Rusca leaned against a tree as he struggled to catch his breath. Not now, he begged his body. Not now or he'll blow his cover. He shivered as a wave of lust coursed through him, stronger than what he last remembered experiencing. The herbs to suppress his heat should be here, he thought as he stumbled on.

Rusca sprinted to a bush. But up close he was the shape of the leaves were wrong and he uprooted it in his anger. He sat on the ground to catch his breath. His vision was swimming. Just a little bit to ease it, he thought, as he parted his hospital robes, his fingers pressing into his wet heat. He thrust a finger in, his cock leaking wetly onto his thigh. He prayed that he had wandered far enough into the woods that no one would find him.

Goyong broke into a run when the scent grew thick in one direction. Whoever it was had stopped walking. He did not pay notice to the crunching of dry leaves in the distance behind him. He surged on and caught sight first of the white robe spread out on the grass, and then he saw him; the unmistakable movement of an omega in heat. Eyes closed, cock hard and wanting. His hole was leaking and being spread open with a finger.

Goyong stalked forward.

The sound of someone nearing alerted Rusca. It broke through his cloud of lust. In the back of his mind, the saner parts of him yelled at him to move, to run. Yet his instincts could sense that an alpha was nearby, and begged him to stay. He felt paralyzed by the two wants firing away in his mind: An alpha has found you. Let him take you. God no, run. It'll be the death of you. Your alpha will protect you. Protect yourself!

Rusca stood shakily, digging nails into his palms, letting the pain knock some sense into him.

"Fuck off!" He yelled at the approaching alpha. He bolted when the alpha did not stop. Behind him, he heard the alpha give chase. He ignored the scent of him, the overpowering desire to turn around and present himself.

Goyong was thrilled by the course of events, the alpha instinct in him loving the challenge, excited by an omega that wanted to be chased. He glanced at the trees, mapping out what he needed to do, and waited for an opportune moment to take a different route and surprise the omega from a different direction.

Rusca turned around when he did not hear the alpha running behind him anymore. His scent was in the air still, somehow, and his mind raced as he struggled to find the direction the alpha might come from. He looked at the ground to find something to arm himself with, careful of his injured right arm. He picked up the sharpest rock he could find, held it like a dagger in his left hand. He tried to catch his breath from the run and waited.

"I told you to fuck off!" Rusca yelled into the trees, unable to stand the nerves of waiting in the quiet for an attack. "Just leave! You can still think so just... find some other omega in heat!"

Goyong grinned as he watcheed the boy scream threateningly in the opposite direction. He bid his time in the shadow of a tree. When it appeared that the boy was slowly letting his guard down, he threw a rock to the omega's left and he jumped away from it just as Goyong intended. He moved to the right. His hand closes over the omega's wrist, twisting his left arm behind his back and agitating it until he droped the rock. Goyong kicked it away and held his sword against the omega's neck.

"I'll take my prize now," Goyong whispered as he pushed him against a tree and pressed his hard cock against the omega's buttocks.

"Don't—"

Goyong twisted his arm harder and Rusca groaned.

"I'll kill you," he muttered as Goyong lifted his robe, admiring his wet hole.

"You want this."

"I'll stab you with your own sword," Rusca promised under his breath.

Goyong shifted away from him for a moment and seized both of his wrists, binding them behind Rusca's back with his belt.

"You can try," Goyong told him as Rusca continued to whisper increasingly violent death threats. He shoved him against the tree again, lifting his robe with one hand as the other encircled the back of Rusca's neck, forcing him to submit. Goyong ran a finger down Rusca's slick hole. It made Rusca's body shudder.

“But I don’t think you really want me killed that badly.”

"Fuck you," Rusca intoned even as his body's temperature rose in response to the attention.

"I'll make you enjoy it," Goyong mouthed into his shoulder.

Rusca's mind violently denied it even as his body begged for the alpha's attention.

"You don't want to do that!" Somebody said behind them.

Goyong heard Paco's voice in the mix. "Goyong! That's Rusca, get off of him!"

Goyong turned, bringing Rusca with him. He unsheatheed his sword when he saw Selong with Paco. He bristled at the new scent. Another alpha.

"Come to claim another omega that's not yours, old man?" Goyong challenged, brandishing his sword.

Selong shook his head, placating. "He clearly doesn't want you. That's assault."

"You just want him for yourself!" Goyong accused.

Paco spoke up. "Goyong, try to think! It’s just the heat!"

Goyong bristled.

"You're on his side?" He asked, accusatory. "Or you want what's mine too?"

"I'm not yours, you dick." Rusca reminded him.

Goyong turned to him and pushes him into the tree, hard enough that his face scratched against the back.

"I still have my legs, I'll kick your ass, I swear," Rusca said as Goyong manhandled him.

Paco looked at Selong worriedly. "How do you handle an alpha like this?"

Selong motioned to Rusca. "You have to get the omega far away from him. It's the unbonded omega's scent. It's making him run on instinct. And I don't know what your friend did, but his scent is different. It’s even putting me on edge when I’m normally not affected because of my bond."

Paco shook his head. "He told me he was a beta. He's been working with me for a couple of months now, he never went into heat."

Goyong took the belt and tied Rusca to a sturdy branch, watching Paco and Selong from the corner of his eye.

"They're going to fuck you up, alpha boy," Rusca said.

Goyong grabbed his ass. "I'll deal with that foul mouth of yours later."

Rusca reddened but he did not let that stop him from glaring at Goyong.

Goyong turned back to them, brandishing his sword. "Which one of you do I have to kill first?"

Selong spoke to Paco under his breath. "I'll take your sword and distract him. Go help your friend."

Paco hissed. "Are you crazy? He's one of the best duelers in the country."

Selong grinned. "Is he? Good, I need the practice."

Paco gave him a look of disbelief.

"Well?" Goyong demanded. "Neither of you brave enough to go first? Or shall I choose?"

"GO!" Selong grabbed the hilt of the sword tied around Paco's waist.

Paco ducked Goyong's sword and ran for Rusca.

"Traitor!" Goyong yelled at him.

Goyong had no choice but to clash swords with Selong even as Paco took Rusca away.

"I'll turn you into wolf food," Goyong growled.

Selong smiled.

"Your father said the exact same words to me once," he said as he parried a blow. "Entirely different context of course."

Goyong's blood boiled. "Leave my father out of this."

Selong quietly cheered. The more Goyong focused on him and the fight, the more likely Paco and Rusca could get away unscathed. "

We were to be wed. We were bonded. I can still feel that bond faintly. He must feel it too."

Goyong's blows began to lose finesse but gain in strength and frequency. Selong defended against it. "I'll take him away from this place."

"I'll kill you!" Goyong yelled.

Selong sidestepped the thrust to his stomach and knocked Goyong down. "He doesn't care for you anyway."

"You lying son of a whore!" Goyong hissed as he swiped at Selong's feet.

Selong defended and Goyong swiftly got up to his feet, pushing swords. He grit his teeth and tried to push the locked blades closer to Selong. Selong was pushing in turn.

"You're a worthless son. A brainless instinct-driven alpha like your king father. When you take to the battlefield, you will lose this war for the whole country."

Goyong retreated and charged back in with a battle cry, aiming his sword at Selong's neck. Selong countered the blow. Goyong let his sword fall. He closed in with a concealed dagger in his fist, managing to nick Selong's neck before the man caught his wrist.

"Should've sliced through me, old man," Goyong said with a groan as he forces the dagger down.

Selong forced him off with great effort. "Stop."

Selong held up a hand, but Goyong made another attempt to slit his throat with the dagger. Selong dropped his sword.

"Are you giving up, coward?" Selong sidestepped him. "I was only distracting you, Your Grace. My words held no meaning. The omega is gone."

Goyong paused, realizing he can no longer smell the omega's heat. "Wha—"

"It's fine. This must be your first time around an unbonded omega."

Goyong lowered the dagger and ran a hand through his hair. "I—Thank you. I almost bonded with a complete stranger. I—"

"It's fine." Selong picked up Paco's fallen sword. "I was already tracking the omega's scent because it was dangerous for an unbonded omega. Then I ran into Paco chasing after you. We supposed the matter would be easier with each other's help."

Goyong nodded as he recalled exactly what had happened with a clearer head. He groaned when he realized the consequences of what he had almost done. "It would've been a disaster."

Selong smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

Goyong was confused when he felt an overwhelming sense of gratefulness. He was supposed to hate this man.

"I'll walk you back, Your Grace. I don't think you were paying attention to your path when you entered the woods."

Goyong scratched the back of his head. "Yes, I just paid attention to the omega."

He felt incredibly childish. "I'm really sorry."

Selong pointed to a path. "Quickest way back. I'll have to leave you at the cemetery though. I want to check if Rusca is secure."

Goyong nodded. "Can you apologize to him for me? I did... Very inappropriate things. Especially since he kept telling me no."

Selong nodded. "I'll make sure he knows."

"Paco too. He's a beta and I knew that but I still tried to harm him."

"I'll speak to him as well."

Selong led him back. Goyong followed a step behind him, feeling especially undignified.

"May I tell you something, Your Grace?"

"Yes?"

"You fought very well. If you had kept a cool head, I would've lost to you."

Goyong fought back a smile.

"Your fathers would be proud."

-

Paco checked the perimeter, making sure no one was around the hunting lodge. He spoke to Rusca. "This is technically royal grounds so if we survive the prince’s alpha rampage, let's not speak of this ever again."

Rusca nodded gratefully. His heat was beginning to wane and it was sapping his strength. Paco settled him onto a bed and took a seat on the chair next to it.

"Can you at least tell me why you pretended to be a beta?"

Rusca shifted in bed. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Fine, I swear it."

"I found out that omegas who suppress their heat long enough can lose it. They can turn into betas."

Paco's brows furrowed. "That sounds untrue, like a child's tale. And why would you want that?"

Rusca picked at his blankets nervously. "I'm an orphan, that’s true. But I’m not from here. I’m a refugee from El Viejo. They're snatching up peasant omegas as gifts. I managed to escape, but if they ever catch me I'd rather die as a beta than be an omega slave."

Paco frowned. "Who are they gifting omegas to?"

"The war has been going on for too long. It’s not just El Viejo, it’s also the neighboring kingdoms along Magdalo’s borders. The deadlock has to end or we all continue to suffer. They found a barbarian warlord with an army of five thousand soldiers who will ally with them and, among other things, he wanted the gift of a hundred omegas for his army, ten for him and the rest for his best soldiers. First, they sent volunteers. Not enough wanted to, so they started been taking people against their will. Not everyone though." Rusca said sadly. "Just the ones no one will miss. Like me, I don’t have a family anymore who will notice if I disappeared."

Paco felt his chest grow heavy. He put a hand on Rusca's knee. "Do what you have to do. I'll keep your secret. But this is big. I have to tell someone about the alliance with the warlord. Do you know anything else?"

“No. When they tried to catch me, I fled and never looked back.”

“Regardless, I have to tell the king.”

"You can't say it was from me."

They both jumped when they heard a knock on the door. Paco unsheatheed a dagger.

"It's Marcelo," the familiar voice said. Paco sighed in relief.

-

Miong got up from bed to fetch Pole from Pepe's room. He thought back to the disastrous dinner and tried to think of something to say. He quietly opened the door and saw Pole sitting up in the chair, looking emptily at closed curtains. Miong heard nothing from Pepe's bed.

"Let's go to bed, Pole," Miong said, walking to his side.

Pole looked up at him. "He loves you. Your opinions of him matter."

"I know."

"In the morning, try to think of something to say that would put all of this in the back of his mind, because it weighs heavily on him now."

"You say that as if it were so easy."

"Then you should have listened when I gestured for you to stop." Pole's voice was cold.

"Do you hate me now?"

Pole's lip tightened. "I haven't forgiven you yet."

Miong sighed. "Let me carry you to bed. I'll find another room."

Pole shook his head. "I will stay right here."

"Sleeping on the chair will hurt you."

"I want to be where my son is."

Miong nodded. "Fine."

He turned and took a chair from Pepe's desk. He pointedly sat next to Pole. "I'll stay with you."

"You ran off into the woods last night. Go. Rest."

"I'll be fine," Miong responded.

"You'll feel terrible sleeping in that chair and it won't help any of us fix this."

"Then if you want me to sleep comfortably, come to bed."

Pole stared at him, unimpressed. "For years, you ordered our traders to buy steel from various faraway sources, but Bonifacio has been engaged in open trade for decades."

Miong shifted. "Was he? I thought back then, their policy was to trade weaponry and metals with allies only."

Pole shook his head. "Not what he told me."

Miong shifted again. "It would have helped us immensely, had we known."

And Selong would not have been involved in a shipwreck, Pole thought.

"Who was our foreign emissary back then and why did they relay incorrect information?" Pole asked. "It's inexcusable. They can be held responsible for needlessly prolonging this war."

Miong clenched his jaw. "I will have to check the records. I've forgotten."

Pole frowned. "If Andoy had not written to Pepe about his father's exports we would have continued scraping the battlefield corpses for metal."

Miong huffed. "We got lucky, I know."

"We could win this war, Miong. But this was too big of a mistake. Let's not let it happen again."

"Of course," Miong agreed peaceably. "I'm glad to have you on my side. You're a far better ruler than I am."

" Don’t shower me with empty praises. I still haven't forgiven you."

Miong sat back on his chair with a sigh. "I suppose I deserve that."

They sat in silence for hours. Pole waited for Miong’s breathing to even out before he turned to look. Miong was dozing in his chair, neck twisted uncomfortably. Pole leaned towards him and fixed his position so that his neck would not hurt in the morning.

-

Nonong arrived at the hospital early in the morning. He managed to catch Ysabel emerging from her carriage. "Good morning, Lady Luna."

Ysabel was surprised, but she smiled at him. "Lord Quezon, good morning. Here for a visit?"

"Yes, and I've brought a friend with me as well."

Nonong gestured for the young man to step forward. "Joven Hernando. A bright, young scholar of the academy."

Ysabel greeted him.

"And what is your field, young man?"

"Natural sciences, my lady."

Nonong nodded happily. "This one told me interesting things about the weather."

Ysabel voiced her interest as she walked with them. "I suppose you study when rains occur for the benefit our crops."

Joven nodded. "Yes, that's precisely our area."

"Their scope is wider than that," Nonong added. "Joven is being humble. For example, his professor used to predict the weather for the king."

Joven reddened. "It's actually confidential information, my Lord. His correspondence with the king is supposed to be private but he's overly proud of it, so sometimes he mentions it in class."

Ysabel laughed. "Well, you can trust me not to tell anyone. But I can't vouch for Lord Quezon here. He enjoys telling the most outrageous stories."

"I'm afraid that's true, but for your sake, I'll try to keep my mouth shut," Nonong told Joven. "Now if you'll excuse us my lady, we're here to visit my new friend, Marcelo."

Ysabel nodded. "Go. But don't keep him all day, Tonyo and Juan will be returning later today if their ship hasn't been delayed."

Nonong bowed.

Ysabel turned to leave but paused. "And... I'm only asking because you seem to know everyone Lord Quezon, do you happen to know a Rusca?"

Nonong stilled.

Ysabel continued. "Eduardo Rusca is the full name, I believe. He was brought in for an injury yesterday but he disappeared last night. He was Paco’s apprentice."

Nonong carefully shook his head. "Doesn't a ring a bell. My apologies."

Ysabel sighed as if expecting this response. "All right. I apologize for keeping you. You may go."

Nonong and Joven bowed to her as she departed. Nonong then led the way. Joven turned to Nonong as they walked. "I heard Lord del Pilar swam a long distance to get here, you know. Crossed seas even."

Nonong laughed. "It was a distance, but not quite that much. He's lived a very interesting life, Joven. If you intend to be someone's biographer, be his."

Joven hummed thoughtfully. "I've always wanted to sail around the world, but his story gave me pause. Imagine, to be lost for twenty years! I think most people who dreamed of traveling would set the dream aside if they knew such a thing could happen."

Nonong shrugged. "It's quite the tragedy, yes. But he survived and the whole ordeal has made an interesting man out of him."

"Is that why you've befriended him? Because he's interesting?"

“Yes, Joven. I enjoy the company of interesting people. This is his room." Nonong knocked and almost immediately Selong's voice bid them to come in. They found Selong pacing.

"Selong."

"Lord Quezon.”

Selong gestured to Joven. "Is this the swordmaster you promised me?"

Nonong looked at Joven and grinned. "You can duel him, but Lord Del Pilar, you would win far too quickly."

Joven reddened.

Selong grinned. "Don't mind Lord Quezon, I've learned that the more affected you are by his teasing, the more he does it."

Nonong smiled. "Precisely. Anyway, kidding aside, this is not your sword master, this is Joven Hernando, a scholar of the Natural Sciences."

Joven bowed and held out his hand for Selong. "A pleasure to meet you, my Lord."

Selong accepted his hand. “The pleasure is mine, young man.”

“I brought him with me because I would like him to confirm something for you."

Selong looked at Joven in anticipation.

Nonong gestured to Selong. "Now Joven, your professor followed his voyage, yes?"

Joven nodded and launched into an explanation." My professor used to sail as well. He predicts the weather for sailors working for the king. He sends the missives, advising the captains on whether they should sail or not."

"But?" Nonong prodded. "Oh, but they pass through the king first! Yes, yes, very important detail, that.  The king's office forwards them all to the captains."

Selong's jaw clenched. "Was your professor able to predict the storm that sank my ship?"

Joven looked at him sadly. "Yes sir, but I suppose the advisory never reached you. My professor said mistakes like this happen, and that is why it’s important to be vigilant in our work."

Nonong and Selong share a knowing look.

"Nobody wanted that tragedy to befall you, least of all my professor. It was his work that was called into question too."

Selong nodded stiffly, his voice cold. "Yes, nobody wanted that to happen."

Nonong clapped Joven on the back. "But this one is petitioning the direct communication between the academy and the ships. Having a middleman just slows the process, right Selong?"

Selong nodded stiffly. "You're saying lives with your initiative, Joven. Can I do anything to help you?"

Joven perked up. "Actually, that is why I'm here. I hope that you could work with us to build our case with the king. We have several captains helping, but our case is stronger when we recall what happened to you and your crew."

Selong gave Nonong a darkly amused smile. "I would never let go of an opportunity to criticize the king and his court."

Joven laughed. "That’s one way to look at it my lord, but we're merely suggesting a more efficient way. We would never criticize the king."

Selong nodded. "Yes, well, I jest. I'm very grateful that the academy has extended this invitation."

Joven brightened. "Shall I discuss the finer details of it? Er, if you have the time."

 Selong nodded "I've not much to do now but recover. You can have my time until Lord Luna arrives. Will you be joining us Nonong?"

Nonong shook his head. "I would, but another matter has presented itself to me. I think I shall attend to it first."

Selong nodded. "Go. I know you have work to do. You’ve given more than enough."

Nonong took his leave. As he wandered, he found a nurse. "Good grief, this place is practically labyrinthine! How does anyone find their way?"

The nurse smiled. "Lost again, Lord Quezon?"

"Yes on my way to see a friend, Eduardo Rusca. Can you point me to his room?"

The nurse frowned. "I'm afraid your friend went missing last night."

Nonong gasped. "Really? Have you contacted his friend—uh, what's his name?"

"Paco Roman?"

"Yes, the royal blacksmith."

"We wrote to him this morning. One of his apprenticea told us he hasn't returned since last night."

Nonong sighed. "Thank you anyway, that is very helpful."

The nurse bowed. "You've been very kind to everyone here. It's the least I can do."

-

Miong stirred to wakefulness when he heard the rustling of sheets. He looked to his side and saw Pole, sleepily opening the curtains of Pepe’s bed to check on their son.

"Miong!"

Miong sat upright.

Pole looked at him, alarmed. "Did Pepe get up when I was asleep?"

The implication shocked Miong to wakefulness. "I don’t know. I've been sleeping until now."

Pole's face drained of color. "Guards, check the castle for Pepe!"

Miong got up from his chair. He checked the balcony on a gut feeling. He cursed when he found a makeshift rope from the balcony down to the courtyard.

"What is it?" Pole asked worriedly.

"Pepe ran away."

Pole buried his face in his hands.

Miong violently ripped the rope from the balcony and let it fall to the courtyard. "I'll bring him back."

Pole watched Miong leave, wanting to rise from his chair and follow him, wishing he could be the one to find his son. He cursed his helplessness.

Goyong stormed into the room a few minutes later, still wearing yesterday's clothes. "What happened? The guards said Pepe was missing."

Pole eyed him critically. "Before I answer that, where in the world have you been?"

Goyong shifted awkwardly. "Just visiting Paco."

"You could have told us," Pole told him sadly. "What if you had gone missing too?"

Goyong walked forward and embraced him. "Stop it ‘tay, I'm fine."

Pole settled into his son's arms. "Do you know where your brother would go?"

Goyong hummed thoughtfully. "Andoy is here, yes? Where Andoy is that's where you'll find Pepe."

Pole sighed. "Has no one told you yet?"

"Told me what?"

Pole pulled away and looked at him intently.

"Pepe bonded with Andoy. He tried to announce their engagement last night at dinner, but nobody took it well. Least of all, your father."

Goyong's jaw dropped. "Wow. Kuya really did something that impulsive? I miss dinner for one night and the whole world turned upside down."

Pole lowered his head, feeling an incoming headache.

"Wait, is he pregnant?" Goyong asked, alarmed.

Pole frowned. "No one is pregnant. Your brother is a beta and Andoy is an alpha."

"Oh. Right."

Pole squeezed Goyong's hands. "Promise me that you would never do something like this."

Goyong remembered how close he had been to committing something worse last night, and if Paco and Selong had not intervened, he would probably run away as well.

He faked a laugh. "Me? You know I make better decisions than that."

Pole smiled fondly. He smoothed Goyong's hair down. "Get yourself some breakfast and wash up. I'm sure your father will bring your brother back in no time."

-

Miong was by Bonifacio's ship before any of the guards could tail him, barking at the crew to present the lord's son to him. Andoy descended from the ship, looking as if he had not slept.

"Your Majesty, how may I be of service?"

Miong grabbed him by the scruff and everyone around them tensed. "Where did you take my son?"

 Andoy met his eyes coolly. "I was here all night. I don't know you're talking about."

Miong released him roughly and turned to a guard posted at the post. "Is this true?"

The guard nodded nervously. "Yes, Your Majesty, we kept a very close eye on him."

Miong looked at Andoy and was displeased to see the brat looking smug. "We're not through here."

"If you say so, Your Majesty.”

-

Prudencio nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw his nephew on a horse, trotting around their fields.

"Pepe?" Prudencio called out.

Pepe seemed to snap out of his reverie upon hearing his uncle's voice. He urged his horse to his uncle, who was slowly putting down his yoke.

"Does your father know you're here?" Prudencio asked as he left the rice field to help Pepe dismount. Pepe shook his head and embraced his uncle without warning. "Please don't tell them I'm here."

Prudencio's forehead knotted at the request, but he nodded. "All right, but I want an explanation first."

Pepe nodded against him. He took his horse’s rein and followed his uncle to his small hut. "You haven't been here since you were a boy so I don’t know if you remember, but it’s a small space."

Pepe smiled at his uncle's humble hut. Pole had wanted to move his brother closer to the city and into a grander home, but Prudencio had no intention to leave their family hut or their field. He claimed that he would grow weak and feeble if he lived a life of luxury.

"I wish I could visit more often but my studies take up too much of my time."

"I don't mind visiting you and your brother at the Palace," Prudencio responded with his bark of a laugh. "It's a treat to see servants tripping over themselves to cater to a farmer."

Pepe snorted. "You could've taken the lordship father offered you. You could have servants that way."

Prudencio waved it away. "Your father is the academic, not me. I won’t trouble myself with learning lordship business. I'm happy here."

Prudencio gestured for Pepe to sit down at the dining table as he prepared hot chocolate. "Now, to what do I owe this royal visit?"

Pepe sighed and looked down at his lap. "I... I'm thinking of abdicating the throne."

-

Miong could no longer act unaffected as various lords and friends of his son in the academy all claimed not to have seen him. He was tired from being on horseback the whole day, meeting with guards and knights, who all report to him the same thing: his son had not been seen by anyone. He continued sending them out to the places Pepe frequented but not even their most distant of relations claimed to know where he is. Miong told himself that Pepe was all right, tried not to imagine a more horrific version of Pepe's boyhood, with his horse going awry and flinging him off its back.

His heart sank when he seriously considered the possibility of it though. Pepe was a poor rider as he often took a carriage and found ways to avoid riding lessons. Miong turned his horse towards the woods, hoping that his son was fine.

**Author's Note:**

> The complete version of this is available via @floussd on Twitter.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Is There Somewhere?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270249) by [myfleetingreverie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfleetingreverie/pseuds/myfleetingreverie)




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